1 


i 


I 


THE  WIT  &  HUMOR 

|OFA  NATION  IN 

PICTURE.  SONG  &  STORY 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  AMERICA'S  GREATEST  ARTIST! 


SPECIAL    EDfTION 


V    CP 


CARICATURE 


{ELEVENTH  EDITION) 


WIT  AND  HUMOR  OF  A  NATION 
IN   PICTURE,  SONG    AND   STORY 


Grant  E.  Hamilton 
"Zim" 

E.  Flohri 
Art  Young 
A.  S.  Daggy 
J.  M.  Flagg 
T.  S.  Sullivant 
R.  F,  Outcault 

J   Penrhyn  Stanlavvs 
,  F.  Nankivel 

S.  Werner 

"Gus"  Dirks 

F.  L.  Fithian 


I 


"BB"  Baker 
J.  H.  Smith 
Sydney  Adamsoh 
Peter  Newell 
H.  C.  Greening 
C.  T.  Anderson 


Burges  Johnson 
W.  J.  Lampton 
R.  K.  Munkittrick 


Illustrated  by 


Frank  Snapp 
Arthur  Lewis 


Geo.  Herriman 
Geo.  R.  BriU 


Poems  and  Stories  by 
Tom  Masson  Edwin  L.  Sabin 

W.  D.  Nesbit  Edward  W.  Barnard 

Frank  H.  Brooks  Eugene  Geary 


J.  Conacher 
Wi  M.  Goodes 
H.  M.  Wilder 
J  no.  Cassell 
Hy  Mayer 
C.  J.  Taylor 
T.  S.  Allen 
Bob  Addams 
Albert  Levering 
Malcolm  Strauss 
F.  H.  Ladendor 
Charles  Sarka 
R.  S.  Bredin 
Albert  Bloch 
Bert  Levy 
V.  A.  Soboda 
Fred  Lewis 
Gordon  Grant 
C.  Knowlton 


Carolyn  Wells 
Henry  Tyrrell 
and  others 


LESLIE-JUDGE    COMPANY,  225    FIFTH   AVENUE,   NEW   YORK 

1910 


Copyright,  1908,  by  Judee  Compinf,    221   Firti  Aveoue,  New  Yoik 


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Bt  ED.  MOTT. 


iLLtrSTBATED    BT    J.    A,    WEST. 


JHEY  were  talking  at  the  Corners 
tavern  how  poor  the  pickerel  fish- 
ing through  the  ice  had  been  all 
winter,  so  far,  and  lamenting  it. 

"  What's  gone  and  happened  to 
Natur',  anyhow?"  said 'Kiar  Biff, 
the  landlord.  "  There's  more  than 
three  thousand  acres  of  ice  a  foot 
and  a  half  thick  on  the  ponds 
around  here,  and  when  Natur'  friz  it  she  knowed  there 
wa'n't  no  use  fer  all  that  ice  back  here  in  the  woods 
'cept  to  ketch  pickerel  through  it,  didn't  she  ?  If  she 
hadn't  calc'lated  them  ponds  to  have  ice  on  to  'em  in 
the  winter  so  as  we  could  cut  holes  through  it  and 
ketch  pickerel,  she'd  'a'  made  b'ilin'  springs  out  of 
'em,  wouldn't  she  ?  Then  what  has  she  gone  and 
done  to  the  pickerel,  so  that  after  she  has  friz  them 
ponds  and  we  have  cut  holes  through  the  ice  and  put 
our  lines  in,  they  don't  bite  f  What's  gone  and  hap- 
pened to  Natur',  anyhow  ?" 

'Squire  Birkett,  from  over  Hogback, 
shook  his  head  and  said  that  if  'Kiar 
'spected  him  to  tell  him  he'd  be  disap- 
p'inted,  'cause  he  didn't  know  ;  but  he'd 
■say  this  much,  it  was  an  aggravatin' 
trick,  and  was  playin'  hob  with  folks 
that  had  been  a  little  scant  in  layin'  in 
pork  last  fall,  calc'latin'  on  pickerel 
through  the  ice  comin'  on  as  usual  ;  an 
aggravatin'  trick,  and  he  didn't  care  who 
heerd  him  say  it.  Then  Solomon  Crib- 
ber,  of  Pochuck,  who  had  come  in  at 
the  height  of  the  complaining,  put  his 
ear-muffs  in  his  pocket  and  said, 

"  I  only  wisht  I  could  'a'  brung  my 
dog  Cockalorum  along  over  with  me  to 
help  you  out  a  little.  I'd  send  fer  him 
now,  but  I  lent  him  to  cousin  Marcellus 
Merriweather  to  go  git  a  mess  with, 
down  to  Bogselizer's  pond.  My  winter 
dog  Cockalorum.     I  gee  you're  goin'  to 


ask  me  about  him,  'Kiar,  but  spare  yourself.  I  see 
you're  goin'  to  ask  me  " 

"I  ain't  goin'  to  ask  you  nothin' !"  exclaimed 
'Kiar.  "I  ain't  goin'  to  ask  you  a  blame  thing — un- 
less it  mowt  be  that  you  take  your  dog  Cockalorum 
and  go  to  blazes  with  him." 

"That's  'cause  you're  all  cut  up  over  the  pickerel 
fishin'  bein'  so  bad,"  said  Mr.  Cribber  soothingly, 
"and  'cause  you  don't  know  Cockalorum.  It  was  a 
good  while  before  I  knowed  Cockalorum  myself.  A 
good  while,  it  was,  before  I  knowed  he  was  a  winter 
dog — a  winter  dog  from  a  to  izzard.  And  that  he 
had  other  p'ints.  Amazin'  p'ints.  Shucks  alive ! 
I  only  jest  wisht  I  had  brung  him  over  here,  any- 
how. Why,  'Kiar,  in  less'n  an  hour  he'd  'a'  had  the 
Corners  feelin'  as  joyous  as  if  Fourth-o'-July  was  here, 
and  Cockalorum  was  fireworks  shootin'  off. 

"Winter  dog,  sure  enough,  he  is.  Why — ^well, 
you  know,  I  s'pose,  that  groundhogs  and  bears  and 


•";h£y  were  talking  at  the  corners  tavern." 


SOLOMON    CRIBBER'S    WINTER    DOG. 


coons  and  setch  turns  in  and  goes  to  sleep  when  winter 
sets  in,  and  don't  wake  up  till  spring  comes  back.  And 
it's  a  good  thing  they  do,  far  by  doin'  that  they  give  my 
dog  Cockalorum  a  chance.  That  amazin'  dog  '11  go  into 
fits,  almost,  at  the  sight  of  a  chipmunk,  to  say  nothin'  o' 
bear,  and  if  a  coon  or  a  groundhog  should  ever  sneeze  at 
him  I  guess  he'd  lay  right  down  and  die.  So,  as  all  o'  them 
beasts  holes  up  in  the  winter,  there  ain't  no  danger  o' 
Cockalorum  runnin'  ag'in  any  of  'em  and  gettin'  skeert  to 
death.  If  you  wa  n't  all  cut  up  so  over  the  pickerel  fishin' 
bein'  so  bad  you'd  up  and  ask  me  now  what  under  the  can- 
opy Cockalorum  does,  then,  when  spring  comes,  and  them 
beasts  begin  to  come  out  o'  their  holes — but  spare  your- 
self, 'Kiar.  I'll  tell  you.  Why,  jest  as  soon  as  the  ice 
goes  out  o'  the  river  and  the  ponds,  and  the  weather  sets 
in  fer  bein'  warm,  Cockalorum  turns  in  and  goes  to  sleep, 


son  begins,  all  right.  Jest  what  I  have  been  lookin'  fer,'  I 
says.    '  Me  and  him  '11  go  out  and  run  things  down,'  I  says. 

"  So  I  took  down  my  gun.  Say,  Kiar,  you  ought  to 
seen  that  dog  when  I  come  out  with  my  gun  !  Cocka- 
lorum is  yaller.  The  yallerist  punkin  you  ever  see  ain't 
half  as  yaller  as  Cockalorum  is.  But  when  he  seen  that 
gun  his  yaller  turned  pale,  and  he  cut  fer  the  barn  and 
hid  ten  foot  deep  in  the  hay  mow. 

"  '  The  durn  dog  don't  seem  to  be  much  of  a  huntin' 
dog  after  all,'  says  I.  '  But  he's  got  p'ints;'  I  says.  '  And 
we'll  jest  wait  and  see  which  way  them  p'ints  is  goin'  to 
p'int,'  says  I. 

"  It  was  a  couple  o'  days  before  Cockalorum  unkivered 
hisself  from  the  hay  mow  and  come  out  amongst  folks. 
Artamesy  she  up  and  says — Artamesy's  my  wife — she  up 
and  says, 


"'FOUND   THE   MARKET   CRAMMED   FULL   O'    PICKEREL.'' 


and  he  don't  do  much  of  anything  else  but  snooze  till  cold 
weatlier  comes  ag'in. 

"  I  never  knowed  where  Cockalorum  come  from.  I 
found  him  asleep,  one  mornin'  in  May,  out  on  my  back 
stoop.  He  didn't  wake  up  any  kind  o'  sudden  even  when 
[  felt  of  him  pooty  roUickin'  with  my  cowhide  boot,  and 
even  after  I  did  git  him  awake  he  only  give  a  tired  sort  of 
a  wag  of  his  tail  and  went  off  into  a  snooze  ag'in. 

"  '  Well,'  I  says,  '  any  dog  that  kin  sleep  like  that,'  I 
says,  '  must  have  uncommon  p'ints  about  him,  and  I  guess 
I'll  keep  him  and  see  what  they  turn  out  to  be,'  I  says. 

•'  So  I  kep'  him,  and  consarned  if  his  nap  didn't  last  till 
frost  come  along  in  the  fall.  Then  he  woke  up  and  be- 
gun to  move  around.  As  the  weather  come  on  colder  tlie 
dog  got  livelier  and  livelier. 

•• '  He's  a  huntin'  dog,'  I  says.    •  He  knows  when  the  sea- 


•■•  Solomon,'  she  says,  'shoot  him.  He  ain't  right,' 
she  says. 

" '  Artamesy,'  says  I,  •  pause.  Wait  for  his  openin' 
up,'  I  says. 

"  And  "twixt  me  and  you  and  the  'squire  and  the  rest 
o'  you,  'Kiar,  when  I  say,  '  Artamesy,  pause  !'  Artamesy 
pauses.  So  she  paused.  By  and  by  the  weather  got 
colder  and  colder,  and  the  pond  froze  over. 

"  '  Now,'  says  I,  '  me  and  the  pickerel  is  goin'  to  have 
a  worryin'  match,'  says  I. 

"  I  got  my  tip-ups  and  things  together  one  day  and 
started  out.  Cockalorum  was  sniffin'  the  frosty  air  in  the 
yard,  and  actin'  like  a  gambolin'  lamb.  When  he  see  me 
with  the  tip-ups  he  begun  to  cut  up  and  caper  most 
amazin'.  He  jumped  and  cavorted  and  twisted,  and  sung 
out,  and  acted  so  gener'ly  and  genuine  crazy  that  Arta- 


SOLOMON    CRIBBER'S    WINTER    DOG. 


mesy  run  into  the  settin'  room  and  locked  herself  in,  and 
iioUered  to  me  through  the  key-hole, 

"  '  Solomon  Cribber  !  that  dog  ain't  right,'  she  says. 
'  He's  runnin'  over  with  hyderphoby.  Shoot  him,  I  tell 
you  !'  she  says. 

"But  I  knowed  better. 

"  '  Artamesy,'  I  says,  '  pause  !    This  dog  is  openin'  up,'  - 
I  says. 

"  Me  and  Cockalorum  went  to  the  pond,  and  all  the 
way  there  the  way  he  acted  showed  plain  that  his  p'ints 
was  comin'  to  the  front.  He  didn't  cool  down  till  we  got 
on  the  ice  and  I  begun  to  cut  holes  to  fish  through.  As  I 
chopped  'em  Cockalorum  kep'  lookin'  at  me  as  much  as  to 
say,  '  Well,  I'll  be  dog-buttoned  !  Be  you  down  here  jest 
fer  exercise  after  all  ?' 

"  But  I  didn't  know  Cockalorum  yit,  and  kep'  on  chop- 
pin'  holes.  I  got  a  dozen  or  so  cut,  and  then  put  in  my 
lines  and  begun  to  fish.  Cockalorum  kep'  a-lookin'  at  me 
as  if  he  was  disgusted  and  disapp'inted  with  me.  I  fished 
and  fished.  Not  a  bite.  Then  Cockalorum  snorted  his 
opinion  o'  me,  and  went  to  nosin'  around  on  the  ice, 
'round  and  'round  and  here  and  there,  and  by  and  by  he 
give  a  yelp,  and  started  up  the  pond.  He  kep' his  nose 
on  the  ice,  and  every  little  while  he'd  sing  out,  jest  like  a 
hound  on  a  fo.x  track.  He  kep'  on  goin',  waggin'  his  tail 
and  singin'  out,  till  he  got  a  quarter  o'  a  mile  away.  Then 
he  stopped,  and  the  way  he  danced  around  and  yelped, 
and  done  the  looniest  things,  was  enough  to  skeer  wildcats. 

"  '  Shucks  alive  !'  I  says.  '  I  guess  Artamesy  knowed 
what  she  was  sayin'.  Don't  seem  to  me  that  Cockalorum's 
actin'  as  if  he  was  jest  right,'  I  says. 

"  But  not  ketchin'  any  pickerel,  I  pulled  up  my  lines 
and  moved  on,  first  place  goin'  up  to  see  jest  what  it  was 
that  ailed  the  dog  before  I  took  him  home  and  shot  him. 
I  got  there,  and  he  kep'  up  his  crazy  doin's.  If  the  spot 
hadn't  looked  like  setch  a  proper  place  fer  pickerel  I'd  'a' 
took  Cockalorum  right  home  and  put  him  outen  his  mis- 
ery, but  as  it  was,  I  cut  some  holes  and  went  to  fishin' 
there.  Did  the  pickerel  bite  ?  I  never  see  the  likes  of  it ! 
I  had  pickerel  stacked  on  the  ice,  enough  to  load  a  wagon, 
in  less  than  an  hour.  Then  they  quit  bitin'  and  Cocka- 
lorum went  to  nosin'  around  on  the  ice  some  more.  Be- 
fore long  he  went  off,  holdin'  his  nose  to  the  ice  and  his 
tongue  makin'  music.  He  stopped  before  long,  and  went 
to  doin'  the  crazy  caperin'. 

"  '  I  hate  to  kill  that  dog,'  says  I,  '  but  this  can't  go  on.' 
"Not  gittin"   any  more  bites,  I  pulled  up  and  hurried 

Patience. 

DON'T  worry  over  little  things  in  life. 
Don't  let  a  little  trouble  give  you  pain — 
("  Now,  Johnny,  you  stop  whittling  with  your  knife. 
That  noise  would  make  a  person  go  insane  !") 

Don't  make  a  fuss  o'er  every  petty  care 

And  'gainst  a  trifle  raise  a  foolish  plaint — 
t"  Now,  Freddy,  you  stop  pulling  Jenny's  hair  ; 

You're  enough  to  try  the  patience  of  a  saint !") 

Don't  grumble  every  time  things  don't  go  right. 
Don't  rage  o'er  tiny  bothers  of  a  day — 
("  You,  Jenny,  stop  your  fooling  with  that  hght ; 

The  way  you  act  will  make  my  hair  turn  gray !") 


along  to  sort  o'  talk  to  Cockalorum  and  soothe  him  down. 
When  I  got  there  I  seen  that  the  spot  was  another  likely 
pickerel  place,  and  I  cut  holes  and  put  in  ray  lines.  Setch 
fishin'  !  It  was  pull  in  and  bait,  and  bait  and  pull  in,  till 
the  pickerel  that  laid  around  on  the  ice  looked  like  ranks 
o'  cord  wood.  Cockalorum  watched  the  proceedin's  and 
felt  good  till  the  fish  quit  bitin'  ag'in,  and  then  he  started 
in  on  his  nosin'  and  yelpin'.  Then  it  struck  me  all  in  a 
heap.  Cockalorum  was  trailin'  them  pickerel  jest  the 
same  as  hounds  follers  the  trail  of  a  fox,  and  was  leadin' 
me  to  'em  every  time  ! 

"  '  Cockalorum,'  says  I,  '  you've  opened  up.' 

"Well,  mebbe  me  and  him  didn't  have  fun  the  rest  o' 
that  winter.  And  mebbe  I  didn't  cart  pickerel  to  market 
enough  to  lift  the  mortgage  on  my  farm,  besides  buyin' 
Artamesy  a  set  o'  store  teeth.  And  I  says  to  Artamesy  in 
the  spring, 

"  '  Artamesy,'  I  says,  '  s'pose  you  hadn't  paused  ?  Cock- 
alorum wouldn't  never  had  the  chance  to  open  up,'  I  says, 
'  and  where  would  we  'a'  been  then  ?' 

"  But  that  wa'n't  all  that  showed  the  amazin'  p'ints  o' 
that  dog.  See  what  he  done  only  last  winter.  We  had 
run  down  stacks  and  stacks  o'  pickerel,  me  and  Cocka- 
lorum had  ;  and  then  one  day,  at  every  place  he'd  take  me 
to,  I'd  yank  out  not  a  ding  thing  but  perch.  This  went 
on  so  long  that  I  got  mad  and  quit  fishin',  though  Cocka- 
lorum seemed  su'prised,  and  tried  to  keep  me  at  it. 

"  '  Artamesy,'  says  I,  when  I  got  home,  '  Cockalorum 
has  gone  wrong  !     He's  lost  his  nose  fer  pickerel.' 

"  But  see  what  a  dog  he  is.  I  went  over  to  town  next 
day,  and  there  I  found  out  that  the  market  was  jest  more 
than  crammed  full  o'  pickerel,  and  they  wa'n't  fetchin'  a 
cent  a  pound  ;  but  perch  !  why,  everybody  was  howlin' 
fer  perch,  and  fifteen  cents  a  pound  was  a  small  price  fer 
'em.  Ding  it  all,  'Kiar  !  Seems  to  me  I'll  never  git  over 
bein'  sorry  I  didn't  bring  Cockalorum  over  anyhow,  to 
help  you  fellows  out  a  little.     He'd  'a'  " 

"  Solomon,"  said  'Kiar,  with  a  sudden  show  of  con- 
sideration that  embarrassed  the  Pochuck  narrator  visibly, 
"  I'm  amazin'  glad  you  didn't.  The  law's  ag'in  houndin' 
over  here  the  stiffest  kind,  and  somebody 'd  'a'  filled  him 
full  o'  lead  or  p'ison  as  sure  as  corn  a-poppin',  and  I 
wouldn't  'a'  had  you  lose  that  dog,  not  fer — no,  sir  ! — not 
fer  three  shillin'  !" 

And  when  Mr.  Cribber  put  on  his  ear-muffs  and 
went  homeward  his  wonted  smile  of  satisfaction  was  not 
with  him. 

Prenatal  Influence. 

THERE  was  a  downy  chicken 
Of  incubator  birth 
Which  grew  to  happy  henhood 

And  scratched  the  wormy  earth. 

She  did  her  work  of  laying  ; 

And  one  fine  summer  day 
Her  owner  had  her  setting 

On  eggs  of  her  own  lay. 

And  when  she  finished  hatching 

She  found  she  had  a  lot 
Of  little  incubators, 

Which  startled  her  somewhat. 


Ye  Summer  Maid. 

SHE  ventured  in  the  briny  deep 
A  little  while  ago, 
And  yelled  tor  murder,  fire,  police-! — 
A  crab  had  pinched  her  toe. 

And- though  at  that  momentous  time 
Her  screams  were  plainly  heard. 

Yet  when  a  lobster  squeezed  her  waist 
She  didn't  say  a  w  ord. 

Close  Competition. 

i<  WE  are  living  in  a  rapid  age,"  I 

"  say  to  my  friend  as  we  note 
the  fall  announcements  of  changing 
styles. 

"  Yes,"  he  agrees. 

"We  are  making  history  rapidly," 
1  further  remark. 

"  True,"  he  mutters  ;  "  but  not  so 
fast  as  we  are  making  historical 
novels." 


Cumso — "  Why,  I  thought  that 
Hustle  was  bankrupt." 

Batiii  —  "So  he  was;  but  he 
learn  ail  so  much  w^hen  he  was  poor 
thn  he  soon  got  rich  again." 


All  Is  Serene. 

^E  watahmillion  's  ripe 
.\n'  blowin'  here  an'  dere. 
Oh,  hear  de  chicken  pipe 
De  rag-time  dat  is  rare  ! 


D^ 


^^iaatt^-v:) 


She's  such  a  winsome  miss,  you  say, 
More  modest  than  the  rose  ; 

But  if  you  'd  watch  you'd  see  each  dav 
Her  color  comes  and  goes. 


De  'possum  's  in  de  stew, 
An'  soon  de  meller  cob 

Ob  co'n  an'  tater  new 

Will  make  dese  ole  jaws  bob 

I 's  happy  as  de  clam, 

I  happy  is  fo'  fair  ; 
1  '11  tell  yo'  whad — I  am 

A  watahmillionaire. 

Says  Parson  Snowflake. 

i(  VESSUH,  I  done  bin  ter  de  t'eay- 
■  ter  "  said  Parson  Snowflake, 
"an  I  seen  dese  hyuh  membahs  o' 
mah  race  a-actin'  on  de  stage,  too. 
An  I  jes'  got  dis  ter  say — de  culkid 
actah  am  a  moughty  po'r  imertation 
ob  de  white  man's  imertation  ob  de 
cullud  man." 


YOU    can    patch    up   a   poem  or  a 
reputation,  but  the  patches  always 

show. 


y//^^w 


STRANGE,    INDEED. 
Poet—"  That  editor  has  sent  back  another  of  my  poems,      I  don't  think  he  reads  them  at  all." 
\ViFE "  Well,  it's  funny  he  doesn't  accept  some  of  them,  then." 


r-r-     U  ^ t^=r 


^  .1  ...  ji;-.-'-,M».J...M.- 


[f3^nteFwer| 


:  »i     ifMHini  ;  iiiiimi.ai^ 


IttuSTHATKD    Br    A.    S.    DAGGT. 


ORD  AFPYNTE  was  chesty.  There  was  no  doubt  about  that.  He  had  swelled  up  sud- 
denly after  the  arrival  at  Afpynte  Towers  of  a  courier  who  delivered  a  missive 
bearing  the  royal  cipher.  Indeed,  he  strutted  about  for  a  time  with  his  head  so 
high  in  the  air  that  he  ran  against  a  table  on  which  his  Sunday-best  helmet  was 
resting,  and  sent  it,  with  a  boiler-factory  clatter,  to  the  stone  floor  of  his  apart- 
ment. He  paused  a  moment  to  scowl  at  it,  and  then  went  on  with  his  strut ;  for 
though  it  was  dented  and  battered  so  that  it  would  puzzle  the  nicest  skill  of  the 
Towers  armorer  to  re-block  it  into  the  latest  spring  shape,  such  a  matter  was  of 
too  little  significance  for  him  to  take  cognizance  of  under  the  circumstances. 

And  well  might  his  lordship  be  chesty,  for  the  king,  by  his  own  royal  invita- 
tion, was  coming  to  spend  his  regular  midsummer,  two-weeks-off-with-pay  vaca- 
tion at  Afpynte  Towers.      He  had  sent  word  that  he  would  come  informally  and 
incog.,    with   only 
a  couple    of  gen- 
he   wanted    to    be 


tlemen-in-waiting,    and    said 
Treated  as  one  of  the  family. 

"Don't  go  to  any  trouble,  my  dear  Af, "  he 
wrote,  in  his  auto-invitation,  "  as  I  want  to  get 
away  for  a  while  from  the  pomp  and  formality 
that  hedge  me  about  with  a  hedge  too  accu- 
rately trimmed  for  comfort.  I  want  to  rest  and 
take  things  easy,  for  the  fact  is  the  pace  has  been 
a  bit  stiff  here  lately,  don't  you  know,  and  some- 
times the  next  morning  it  takes  more  than  one  to 
do  me  any  good.  So  let  me  get  back  to  nature 
for  a  while,  our  real  national  nature  with  simple 
bacon  and,  eggs  for  breakfast,  and  roast  mutton 
and  boiled  potatoes  for  dinner,  with  a  pewter  of 
bitter  now  and  then  between  times." 

Lord  Afpynte  put  the  royal  missive  in  the 
safe  and  leaned  back  with  a  satisfied  smile.  No 
wonder  he  was  chesty.  Of  course  the  enter- 
tainment of  royalty,  even  incog.,  is  a  trifle 
expensive,  but  his  lordship  felt  that  by  the  time 
his  majesty  left  Afpynte  Towers  he  would  stand 
in  so  solid  that  any  favor  he  might  ask  would  be 
a  cinch.  Thus  he  expected  not  only  to  catch 
even,  but  to  get  somewhat  to  the  good  in  the 
long  run. 

"I'll  give  him  the  time  of  his  life,"  declared 
his  lordship  to  himself  as  he  took  a  self-con- 
gratulatory draught  of  sack  ;  "and  by  the  time 
he  leaves  here  he  will  forget  his  past  so  that  those 
short- skates  hanging  around  the  court  won't  be 


xx'^-D***^ 


'  PAUSED   A   MOMENT   TO   SCOWL   AT   IT. 


^HE    SACK   OF   cAFPYNTE  TOWERS. 


one,  two,  three.     Only  the  real   thing   can  finish  in  front 
when  the  event  isn't  fixed  for  the  books." 

Never  in  the  memory  of  the  oldest  retainer  had  there 
been  such  a  furbishing  up  of  things  at  Afpynte  Towers. 
Hedges  were  trimmed,  ^valks  were  sanded,  and  roads 
were  scraped  and  leveled.  All  the  various  repairs  about 
the  place  that  everybody  had  put  off  until  somebody  else 
had  time  to  do  the  work  were  made  in  a  hurry.  The 
state  apartments  were  opened  to  the  sweetening  influence 
of  the  sunshine,  and  the  choicest  linen  was  aired.  Armor 
was  scoured  until  it  shone,  and  weapons  were  put 
into  a  condition  not  known  since  the  last 
time  the  Afpynte  Towers  men-at-arms 
marched  forth  to  the  field  of  glory. 
Guard-duty,  which  had  long  been 
merely  perfunctory,  suddenly  be- 
came very   formal,   and   there   was 


"  Oh,  that's  all  right,  Af,  old  boy,"  responded  the  king 
with  delightful  simplicity.  "  Go  take  off  your  hardware 
and  be  comfortable.  Ecod  !  Why  don't  you  make  those 
varlets  of  county  commissioners  sprinkle  the  roads  out 
this  way.  There's  as  much  dust  inside  my  neck  as  there 
is  outside  my  doublet.     Eh  !" 

"  In  a  minute,  your  majesty  !     What,  ho  there  !     Tell 

the  butler  to  get  busy  "  cried  his  lordship,  with  much  ado. 

"  And   while  your  majesty   is   refreshing  yourself  with   a 

dash  of  cold  water  I'll   unload    my   line  of  consolidated 

steel  and  join    you   at   the  sideboard   before  you 

get  a  chance  to  wait." 

And  it  was  so  ;  for  when  the  king 

approached  the  buffet  his  lordship 

was    waiting     for    him    with     a 

crowned    cup   that  was  surely 

_   _     .  worth  the  trouble.     That  night 


"  '  CALL    MF.    BILL. 


a  general  tightening  of  the  discipline  in  the  establishment. 

As  these  preparations  progressed  his  lordship  grew  so 
continuously  chestier,  that  when  he  tried  on  his  dress- 
armor  he  found  he  had  to  fasten  the  breast-plate  and  back- 
piece  together  with  rubber  bands. 

Everything  was  made  ready  in  ample  time,  and  so,  on 
the  appointed  afternoon,  when  the  lookout  on  the  watch- 
tower  announced  that  three  horsemen  were  coming  down 
the  Afpynte  Towers  road,  all  the  family  banners  flew  out 
to  the  breeze,  and  every  man  on  the  premises  was  at  his 
station.  The  front  put  up  by  the  men-at-arms  would  have 
done  credit  to  any  noble  lord  in  the  country. 

"Welcome  to  Afpynte  Towers,  your  majesty!"  ex- 
claimed his  lordship,  with  hearty  cordiality — earnestly 
hoping  that  his  rubber  bands  would  not  show — when  he 
met  the  king  in  front  of  the  barbican.  "  'Tis  an  honor  to 
the  Towers  to  be  at  your  command,"  he  continued  when 
his  majesty  had  dismounted,  as  he  kneeled  down,  with  a 
noise  like  the  bending  of  a  rusty  hinge,  to  kiss  the 
royal  hand. 


when  his  majesty  inserted  his  royal  form  between  the  sheets 
in  the  state  chambers  the  only  thing  he  was  sorry  for  was 
that  he  hadn't  found  this  place  sooner. 

And  every  day  he  was  there  he  liked  it  so  much  better 
that  he  sometimes  felt  as  if  he  would  like  to  renege  on  ever 
going  back  to  court  at  all.  Strictly  incog.,  which  every- 
body understood,  but  pretended  not  to,  he  rode  to  hounds, 
went  hawking  and  pig-sticking,  fished  in  the  moat,  played 
at  bowls  on  the  green,  and  freely  followed  his  fancy  with- 
out a  hedge  to  cramp  his  course.  So  good  a  time  did  he 
have  that  odds  were  freely  offered  among  the  gentry  that 
Lord  Afpynte  would  be  the  next  prime  minister  if  he 
wanted  the  job,  and  that  the  next  time  decorations  were 
given  out  he  would  have  to  bring  his  share  home  in 
a  trunk. 

Finally  the  last  evening  came,  as  the  night-before-the- 
morning-after  frequently  does.  His  majesty  had  to  return 
to  work  and  worry  the  next  morning,  and  he  was  deep  in 
the  dumps. 

"What's  the  use  ?"  he  growled  disconsolately. 


^ 


THE  SACK  OF   c4FPYNTE   TOWERS. 


^ 


"  Cheer  up,  your  majesty  !"  cried  Lord  Afpynte,  who 
was  ever  a  smooth  guy  at  a  jolly.  "  There's  always  some- 
thing coming  at  Afpynte  Towers.  I  have  saved  the  best 
for  the  last.  To-night  we  shall  drink  sack  such  as  none 
ever  tasted  before.  Why,  the  wine  has  the  very  sunshine 
of  Spain  and  the  goo-goo  eyes  of  the  senoritas  in  it,  and 
its  age  is  past  human  tab-keeping.  There  is  only  one 
cask  left.     I  trow  there  will  be  none  to-morrow." 

A  gleam  of  anticipation  lighted  his  majesty's  eye,  but 
he  was  still  in  the  range  of  the  indigo  slide  of  the  calcium 
at  the  prospect  of  being  kept  in  a  dreary  winter's  reign, 
when  the  two  settled  down  for  the  evening. 

But  by  the  time  his  majesty's  cup  had  been  filled  for 
the  severalth  time  he  was  another  man,  and  it  began  to 
look  to  him  as  if  Lord  Afpynte  were  two  other  men  ;  but 
he  still  knew  better,  and  did  not  lose  confidence. 

"  Af,  ol'  boy,"  he  said  at  last,  as  he  pushed  himself  up 
in  his  chair  so  as  to  get  his  neck  straight  enough  for  a 
free  passage,  "  we  know  each  other  pretty  well,  don't 
we?    Eh?" 

"  Y'r  maj'sty  does  me  g-great  honor  t'say  so,"  replied 
his  lordship  with  sack-burdened  gravity. 

"  Well,  tha's  just  what  1  wanted  t' speak  t'you  'bout. 
Don't  call  me  y'r  maj'sty  ;  call  me  Bill.  Tha's  not  my 
name,  y'  know,  'f  course,  but  't  indicates  good  fell'ship, 
an'  we're  it." 

"  I  sh'U  feel  quite  honored,  y'r  maj'sty  " — — 

"  Bill  !"  roared  the  king. 


Lord  Afpynte  bowed  gravely,  and  took  another  long 
pull  at  his  cup. 

"  Bill,"  he  said,  with  great  dignity. 

"  'Sright !"  declared  the  king.  "  An'  now  what  I  want 
t'  know  is  how  much  o'  this  sack  is  left  at  th'  outside. 
Careful,  now,"  he  went  on  slowly,  "  how — much — left — at 
— th' — outside  ?" 

"  Well,  y'r  maj  " The  king  scowled.     "  Bill,"  his 

lordship  corrected  himself,  as  he  rubbed  his  chin  in  a 
judicially  ruminant  manner,  "  well,  it's  now  'bout  two 
'clock,  an'  we've  not  los'  much  time — well,  I  sh'd  say 
'bout  two  gallons,  more  'r  less." 

"  At  th'  outside  ?" 

"  At  th'  outside." 

"  Well,  tha's  wrong  place  f 'r  it.  Fill  'em  up  again, 
an'  let's  keep  busy  till  it's  on  th'  inside,  where  it  b'longs  !" 

And  his  majesty  was  so  pleased  with  the  prettiness  of 
his  wit  that  he  lifted  a  rather  thick  voice  in  song  : 
"  Oh,  light  th'  night  with  pleasure  bright, 
An  shun  dull  care's  lean  pack  ! 
We  know  no  woe  who  breast  the  flow 
Of  good  ol'  Spanish  sack !" 

It  was  a  noble,  but  expiring,  effort,  and  as  the  king 
finished  the  verse  he  smiled  feebly  and  then  slid  to  the 
floor,  oblivious  alike  to  the  pleasures  of  the  present  or  the 
cares  of  the  future. 

Lord  Afpynte  raised  his  hand  to  ring  the  bell,  but  for 
some  reason,  not  exactly  clear  to  him,  he  could  not  reach 


'  WELCOME   TO   AFPYNTE   TOWERS. 


THE  SACK  OF   cAFPYNTE   TOWERS. 


the  cord- -which  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  room — so  he 
merely  murmured  compassionately,  "  Ah,  poor  f'ler  !  He 
needs  th'  ■•est.  Let  'im  sleep  !"  and  he  sank  into  a  sono- 
rous slumber  himself. 

The  court  circular  of  the  current  date  contained  the 
following  paragraph  : 

"  His  majesty  returned  this  morning  from  Afpynte 
Towers   much   improved    in    health   and   spirits.      After 


breakfasting  on  a  bottle  of  soda-water  and  a  double  por- 
tion of  bromo  seltzer,  he  retired  at  once  to  his  apartments. 
The  court  physician  assures  all  loyal  subjects  that  the 
king's  headache  and  the  discomfort  at  the  roots  of  his  hair 
are  merely  passing  ailments  of  a  sympathetic  nature  which 
will  soon  pass  away,  and  that  his  majesty  will  be  quite 
himself  again  to-morrow.  For  this  reason  the  usual  fort- 
nightly levee  is  postponed  until  that  time." 


ti 


ti 


Modern  Jour- 
nalism. 

K  U  AVE  you  cov- 
ered all  your 
afternoon  assign- 
ments ?"  inquired 
the  city  editor  of 
the  "  yellow  jour- 
nal." 

"  Yes,"  answer- 
ed the  new  report- 
er, rolling  up  his 
sleeve  and  admin- 
istering a  hypo- 
dermic injection  of 
elixir  of  life. 

"  You  called  the 
governor  a  liar,  did 
you,  and  took  down 
his  reply  in  short- 
hand ?" 
"  I  did." 

"You     accom- 
panied   the    board 
of  health   through 
the    sewer   in    the 
hunt    for    typhoid 
germs  ?" 
"  Yes,  sir." 
"And  interview- 
ed Actress  Sweet 
Marie    about    her 
milk    baths    and 
champagne  break- 
fasts ?" 
"  Yep." 

"You  took  down 
verbatim  Senator 
Guggenheim's'hot- 
air  spiel'  at  the 
lyceum  ?" 
"  I  did." 

"  And  also  made 
an  ascension  with 


l^J 


Professor  Highfly 
in  his  new  air- 
yacht  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  secured  a 
smooth  story  on 
the  sensations  of 
playing  golf  minus 
a  red  waistcoat  ?" 

"  Yep." 

"  Well,  here's  an 
order  on  the  cash- 
ier for  two  dollars. 
Go  out  and  hire 
some  one  to  sand- 
bag you,  and  be 
sure  to  turn  in  by 
to-morrow  a  fierce 
story  on  how  it 
feels.  That'll  be 
all  to-day." 


pUCLID  had  just 

propounded 

one    of    his    most 

brilliant  problems. 

"  Yes,  I  know," 
replied  his  wife ; 
"  but  I  wish  you'd 
go  down  cellar  and 
read  the  gas-me- 
ter.    I  want " 

But,  muttering 
something  about  a 
forgotten  engage- 
ment, he  hastily 
dashed  from  the 
house. 


A  PURCHASE. 

Gladys — '-She  has  the  fatal  gift  of  beauty." 

May — "What  makes  you  think  so?" 

Gladys — "Such  glorious  hair  and  complexion." 

May — "  Oh,  that  isn't  a  gift.     I  was  with  her  when  she  bought  it." 


THE  man  who  is 
satisfied    with 
himself  seldom  sat- 
isfies others. 


D 


An  Advertising  Courtesy. 

HE  explorer  who  is  visiting  the  sheik  in  the  Soudan 
is  much  impressed  with  his  magnificent  grove 
of  trees. 

"  You  have  a  splendid  collection  of  trees,"  he  says 
politely.  "  It  must  have  taken  much  time  and  money  to 
bring  them  togeth- 
er and  plant  them 
in  such  an  orderly 
manner." 

"  Really,"  says 
the  sheik,  "  they 
cost  me  nothing." 

"You  don't 
say  ?" 

"It's  a  fact. 
You  see,  our  insur- 
ance companies  re- 
member their  pa- 
trons with  a  tree 
the  first  of  each 
year." 

"How  odd!  At 
home  our  insur- 
ance companies 
give  us  calendars." 

"That  amounts 
to  the  same  thing. 
These  are  d  a  t  e  - 
trees." 


Man   of    Expe- 
dients. 

«/UIXEM,  the 
chemist,  has 
made  his  fortune 
at  last,"  says  the 
friend. 

"  But  I  thought 
he  couldn't  find 
any  sale  at  all  for 
his  cough-mix- 
ture," answers  the 
other  friend. 

"He  couldn't,  so 
he  labeled  it  '  gen- 
uine maple  syrup,' 
and  sold  every  bit 
of  it  the  first  cool 
day  we  had.  Now 
he  is  rushed  with 
orders  for  it." 


The  Mummy's  Comment. 

HE  Megatherian  minstrels,  on  their  grand  tour  of  the 
world,  visited  Egypt.  They  gave  a  performance  in 
one  of  the  ancient  temples,  surrounded  by  the 
mummies  of  long-forgotten  dynasties.  Mr.  Chestnut 
Bones  arose  during  the  performance  and  told  his  side- 
splitting joke  about 
the  mother-in-law. 
■'Ptolemy," 
whispered  the 
mummy  of  Ram- 
eses  III.  to  his 
neighbor  ;  "  Ptol- 
emy, tell  Thoth- 
mes  I.,  on  your 
right,  that  his 
court  jester  has 
come  to  life  again." 

Work  before 
Pleasure. 

(( IF  you  will  come 
to  tiie  links 
with  me  to-mor- 
row," says  the 
friend  to  the  ener- 
getic author,  "  I 
will  be  glad  to  give 
you  your  first  les- 
son in  golf." 

"  Sorry,  old 
man,"  apologizes 
the  author  ;  "  but 
I  will  have  to  stay 
at  my  desk.  I'm 
finishing  a  contract 
for  a  series  of  golf- 
i  n  g  stories  f  o  r 
Grabbler's  Maga- 
zine. 


PAPA'S  IDEA. 
Lord  Littlecash  [lovingly) — "You  are  my  soul." 
Edith — '•  Yes  ;  I  told  papa  that." 
Lord  Littlecash — "  Oh,  what  did  he  say?" 
Edith — "Said  you  didn't  earn  enough  to  keep  your  soul  and  body  together." 


IF  a  man  is  always 
chaperoned  by 
his  wife  he  is  pretty 
sure  to  meander 
along  in  the 
straight  and  nar- 
row path. 


COME   men    are 
too  lazy  to  en- 
joy a  vacation. 


<( 


An  Absent-minded  Admission. 

I  SUPPOSE,"  says  the  patron  to   the  milkman, 


that 
you   view    the    coming   of  winter    with    feelings   of 
regret." 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  answers  the  milkman. 
"  It  is  really  very  hard,"  goes  on  the  patron,  "to  find 
suitable  pasture  in  the  cold  weather,  no  doubt." 
"  Yes  ;  and  then  the  pump  freezes  so  often." 


The  Modern  Form. 

(( "THIS    abnormal    specimen,"    says    the    professor    of 
reptology,  pointing  to  the  glass  jar  containing  the 
exhibit,  "  is  what  we  call,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  the 
two-headed  garter-snake." 

"  Why  not  call  it  the  hose-supporter  snake  ?"  asks 
a  demure  damsel  in  the  front  row,  who  immediately  sub- 
sides into  intense  blushes. 


{Being  ike  details  of  an  indignation  meeting  of  the  other  features  protesting  against  the 
continual  reign  in  fiction  of  the  hair,  the  eyes,  and  the  heart.) 


Il.I,U8TBATED    BT    H.    C.    GbEENING. 


grew  long  in  protest. 


HE  Roman  Nose  took  the 
chair  and  called  the  meeting 
to  order  by  a  tuneful  snort. 
"We  are  gathered  to- 
gether, friends,"  it  began  in 
nasal  tones,  "to  protest 
against  the  decadence  of 
modern  literature  as  illus- 
trated by  a  phase  " 


The  Face  reddened  and 
Do  I  understand  the  chairman 
to  say  that  the  decadence  of  our  present  literature  is  due 
to  the  Face,  a  body  politic  of  which  the  chairman  is  a 
part  ?  The  fact  that  the  Nose  is  out  of  joint  is  no 
reason  for  slandering  the  rest  of  us,"  it  said  truculently. 

The  Nose  curled  its  nostrils  in  anger.  "  The  Nose 
is  not  out  of  joint.  I  happen  to  be  a  Roman  Nose, 
that  is  all,"  it  explained  proudly.  "But  the  chair 
has  been  misunderstood.  I  meant  to  intimate  that 
the  sterility  of  our  present  literature  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  three  features  have  obtained  a  monopoly  upon 
it.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  state  that 
these  are  the  eyes,  the  heart,  and  the 
hair.  Competition  used  to  be  the  life 
of  trade,  but  of  late  we,  the  other  features 
of  the  body,  have  been  completely  driven 
out  of  business  in  modern  fiction.  We 
have  been  given  the  icy  glare  and  the 
frozen  heart.  We  have  been  offered  a 
crimp  fatal  to  our  interests. " 

This  hit  was  tumultuously  applauded. 
The  Dainty  Feet  stamped,  the  Shapely 
Hands  clapped,  and  the  Silvery  Tongue 
cheered. 

"Quite  true,"  argued  the  Snowi 
Breast  sentimentally.  "  I  used  to  play  a 
prominent  part  in  literature  myself;  per- 
haps it  would  be  no  exaggeration  to  say 
a  vital  part.  '  The  heaving  of  the  hero- 
ine's snowy  breast '  used  to  occur  not  less 
than  once  in  every  three  pages,  but  " 


"Yes,  yes,  we  know  all  about  that,"  hastily  inter- 
posed the  Shapely  Hand,  clad  in  a  number-five  im- 
ported suede  ;  "  but  you  would  better  heave  an  anchor 
before  you  get  under  full  sail.  I  want  to  point  out 
to  the  meeting  that  in  the  twaddle  now  being  written 
the  hero  no  longer  kisses  the  heroine's  hand." 

"The  situation  is  worse  than  that,"  sighed  the 
Ruby  Lips.  "The  up-to-date  hero  is  an  utter  ass. 
He  talks  tommy-rot  when  he  gets  engaged  instead  of 
meeting  her  rosebud  lips  in  one  long,  rapturous  kiss. 
How  the  heroine  stands  it  I  don't  know,  though  she's 
not  much  herself — mostly  runs  to  eyes  and  hair." 

The  Tapering  and  Elegant  Waist  now  registered 
her  grievance.  "I  haven't  been  embraced  in  a  novel 
for  so  long  that  I'm  losing  my  shape.  They're  a  nam- 
by-pamby lot,  the  lovers  of  nowadays  fiction.  Time 
was  when  my  lines  were  the  pride  of  the  writer  and  the 
joy  of  the  reader.  Now  the  stilted  characters  do  noth- 
ing but  throw  goo-goo  eyes  at  each  other  and  rave 
about  their  red  hair.      It's  simply  ridiculous  I" 

The  Dainty  Foot  snapped  forward  from  under  rus- 


'  KISSES   THE   heroine's    HAND.'" 


A    LITERARY    PROTEST. 


'ONE    LONG.    RAPTUROUS   KISS.'" 


tVmg  skirts.  "  I  am  not  in  it  any  more,  either,"  it  stamped. 
"  Authors  are  weak  creatures.  One  of  them  sets  a  fashion 
and  the  rest  follow  the  fad  like  sheep.  If  I  do  ever  get  into 
a  story  they  dress  me  in  the  rough  walking-boots  of  some 
athletic  girl.  My  neatly  turned  ankle  has  fallen  into  desue- 
tude.    I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  we're  coming  to." 

"  Nor  I,"  agreed  the  Swanlike  Neck,  exhibiting  her  most 
graceful  turn.  "  There  has  none  of  you  been  so  neglected 
as  I  have.  Once  I  used  to  be  the  belle  of  the  ball-room,  but 
now  I'm  quite  dead  and  buried.  I'm  sure  I  don't  know 
what  I  have  done  to  deserve  it,"  she  complained  with  a 
proud  undulation.  g 

The  Roman  Nose  condescended  to  explain. 

"  It  is  not  a  matter  of  deserving. 
It  is  a  matter  of  evolution.  The 
eyes,  the  hair,  and  the  heart  formed 
a  trust  and  cornered  the  market 
against  us.  Pick  up  any  book  or 
magazine  and  see  if  they  are  not 
eternally  and  disgracefully  pushing 
themselves  to  the  front.  •  Their  eyes 
married  ' — surely  a  most  idiotic  ex- 
pression. And  here  again,  '  His 
eyes  kissed  her.'  " 

The  Ruby  Lips  pouted.  "  I  vow, 
it  is  most  inane  !  How  can  eyes 
kiss  ?     What  an  absurdity  !" 

"  One  must  turn  up  one's  nose  at 
such  stuff  as  this,"  continued  the 
Roman  Nose.  "  •  Her  heart  thrilled. 
It  hammered  like  an  anvil.'  Or  this, 
•Her   wondrous  auburn    hair  threw 


^jee^'^'^e-* 


off  glints  of  sunlight  that  dazzled  him.'     Sheer  rot  !     Bit 
what  are  we  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

There  was  much  discussion  on  that  point,  but  at  last 
one  coy  feature  hit  the  bull's-eye. 

"  I  move  that  the  canons  of  literary  art  be  revised  so 
as  to  bind  authors  to  make  their  heroines  blind  and  heart- 
less ;  also,  that  they  be  forced  to  wear  wigs  so  as  to  dis- 
guise the  color  of  their  hair,"  suggested  a  Bewitching 
Chin  Dimple. 

There  was  a  moment's  dead  silence.     Then   came  a 

rustle  of  applause.     The  Shapely  Gloved  Ones  shook  hands 

with  each  other  in'joy  and  then  embraced  the  T.  and  E. 

Waist.     The   Snowy   Bosom  sighed  with  relief,   and    the 

Dainty    Foot   arched    itself  proudly. 

Soft  Cheeks  flushed  approval  and  the 

Swanlike  Neck  held  itself  finely. 

"  Motion  seconded,"  smiled  the 
Ruby  Lips ;  and  then  imprinted  a 
sweet  and  lingering  kiss  on  the  Be- 
witching Dimple. 

The  motion  to  revise  the  canons 
of  literar)-  art  was  carried  with 
unanimity. 

"  The  ayes  have  it,"  reported  the 
chairman.  "  Henceforth  liquid  eyes 
and  throbbing  hearts,  and  russet  hair 
with  threads  of  gold  are  to  be  ex- 
punged from  literature.  Meeting 
adjourned." 

And  the  Roman  Nose  scratched 
itself  with  urbane  pleasure  as  it  de- 
scended from  the  rostrum. 


THE    HEAVING    OF    THE    HEROINE'S 
SNOWY    BREAST. 


The  Revolt  of  Boston. 

IRST  came  the  pork  trust.  Higher  and  higher  went  prices, 
and  the  insolent  monopolists  heeded  not  the  grim  looks 
of  the  modern  Athenians. 

Then  came  the  bean  trust.  Beans  went  up  even  as  in 
the  fabled  days  of  Jack  and  the  bean-stalk.  And  the 
brows  of  the  modern  Athenians  grew  darker,  but  the  monopolists 
merely  smiled  scornfully. 

Then  came  the  brown-bread  trust.  More  gloom  in  Boston — more 
monopolistic  scorn. 

Then  the  pork  trust  combined  with  the  bean  trust,  and  finally  the 
pork-and-beans  trust  combined  with  the  brown-bread  trust.  That  was 
the  last  straw.  Grave,  conservative  citizens,  when  they  met  on  the 
streets,  said  one  to  another,  "  Salus  populi  suprema  est  lex."  The 
other  would  say  "  Sure  !"  or  "  Bet  your  life  !"  or  "  Those  are  my  senti- 
ments," or  words  to  that  effect.     In  New  York,  if  one  citizen  observed 


NOISY. 
Fritz — "Mike,  vake  up  right  avay  !     Vat's  dat  noise?" 
Mike — "Aw  !  lay  down  an'  go  t'  shlape.     It's  the  bed  ticking.' 


"FOR  THE  APPAREL   OFT  PROCLAIMS 

THE  UAii."— Hamlet. 


to  another  "Salus  populi,"  etc.,  the  other 
man  would  probably  say  "  Hay  ?"  or  "  What 
are  you  giving  us  ?"  It  is  so  different  in 
Boston. 

And  then  Boston  rose  in  her  might  and 
confiscated  the  whole  outfit  for  the  benefit 
of  suffering  humanity. 

A  Safe  Position. 

Newspaper  proprietor — "  We  are  for 
the  corporations  against  the  people  every 
time.     It  pays  to  be." 

Friend — "  But  when  it's  a  question  of 
corporation  against  corporation,  what  do 
you  do  ?" 

Newspaper  proprietor  —  "  Deprecate 
the  washing  of  dirty  linen  in  public." 


POOR  PAPA! 
"Does  Newlywed's  baby  keep  him  up  nights?" 
"  Lord,  yes  !     He  stays  out  with  the  boys  till  two  a.  m.  telling  them  what  the  baby  says." 


^-') 


fii  ^  oi 

U  U  Id 

S  S  s 

O  X  o 

t-  H  H 

cn  O  fl 

D  J  a 
UCJU 


Br  "W.   D.   Nesbit.       Illustrated   bt  J.   A.  West. 


"T  CHANCED  one  day 
that  Hafa  Nuther,  the  hon- 
est husbandman,  sat  at  the 
entrance  to  his  tent,  smoking 
his  nargileh  and  musing  up- 
on the  great  world  that  lay 
about  him, 

"I   wish,"  mused    Hafa 
Nuther,  "that  I  had  a  good 
excuse    to    go    on    another 
trip  through  strange  countries." 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  wish,  at  that  moment  there 
appeared  on  the  far  horizon  a  waterspout.  Now,  of 
course,  Hafa  Nuther  did  not  dwell  on  the  seashore  ; 
consequently  it  was  strange  that  a  waterspout  should 
be  hovering  in  his  vicinity.  But  a  waterspout  it  was, 
although  it  was  pretty  tired  and  could  not  whirl  as 
rapidly  as  it  had  when  it  had  jauntily  skipped  out  of 
the  ocean  and  started  for  the  tall  timber.  When  it 
arrived  within  a  few  miles  of  Hafa  Nuther  he  realized 
that  here  was  another  golden  opportunity  coming 
right  to  his  door.  Hafa  Nuther  never  waited  for  Op- 
portunity to  knock.  As  we  have  learned  while  ob- 
serving his  life  and  events  from  time  to  time,  he  always 
had  the  door  open  and  was  at' 
the  gate  when  Opportunity  hap- 
pened along  to  do  her  knock 
ing.  So  this  time,  after  shading 
his  eyes  and  watching  the  water- 
spout for  a  moment  and  decid- 
ing what  it  was,  he  seized  upon 
an  empty  barrel  that  stood  at 
the  corner  of  his  tent  and  has- 
tened out  upon  the  plain.  He 
met  the  waterspout  just  when 
it  was  very  weary  and  wanted  a 
rest,  and  he  easily  induced  it  to 
collapse  into  his  barrel. 

Then  he  rolled  the  barrel 
back  to  his  tent  and  smiled  a 
sage  smile. 

"  If  I  know  anything  about 
waterspouts,  '     he    murmured, 


"within  a  few  days  this  one  will  be  anxious  to  re- 
sume business,  and  by  that  time  I  shall  be  prepared 
to  set  it  up  in  a  useful  and  much-needed  occu- 
pation." 

For  the  next  few  days  he  was  busy  getting  his 
wagon  and  traveling  gear  together,  and  one  bright  morn- 
ing he  drove  down  the  pike  that  led  to  the  outer 
world,  the  barrel  reposing  in  the  bed  of  his  wagon, 
with  the  waterspout  ever  and  anon  doing  a  whirling- 
dervish  act  in  the  interior  of  the  barrel. 

When  he  reached  the  first  city  where  they  had 
brick  streets  and  tall  buildings  he  drove  to  the  door- 
way of  one  of  the  largest  business  houses  and  asked 
to  see  the  owner.      That  gentleman  appeared. 

"  Kind  sir,"  said  Hafa  Nuther,  "would  you  like 
to  have  your  windows  washed.'" 

"Yes.  But  I  have  just  telephoned  for  a  force  of 
ten  or  fifteen  professional  window-washers." 

"Countermand  the  order  and  give  me  the  con- 
tract, for  I  can  clean  those  windows  in  no  time." 

"And  how?" 

"Sir,  I  am  the  president,  board  of  directors  and 
sole  stockholder  of  the  Universal  Waterspout  Window 
Washery. " 


"HE   DROVE   DOWN   THE   PIKE.' 


HAFA    NUTHER    AND    THE    HELPFUL    IVATERSPOUT 


"  Ah  !"  smiled  the  owner  of  the  building.  "  And  where 
is  your  washerj'  located  ?" 

"  In  this  barrel,  sir." 

A  few  more  words  e.vplained  the  project  to  the  owner 
of  the  building,  and,  as  much  for  curiosity  as  anything 
else,  he  told  Hafa  Nuther  to  go  ahead  with  the  work.  Our 
hero  placed  the  barrel  in  position,  opened  the  spigot,  and 
in  an  instant  the  waterspout  evolved  itself  from  the  inner 
consciousness  of  the  barrel.  Hafa  Nuther  maintained 
control  of  its  movements  by  means  of  an  ingenious  attach- 
ment to  the  spigot,  which  we  haven't  time  to  describe  at 
present.  He  made  the  waterspout  ascend  in  a  rapidly 
revolving  stream  until  it  reached  the  top  story  of  the  build- 
ing, and  then  guided  its  movements  until  it  had  whirled 
and  rotated  and  revolved  against  each  and  every  window 
in  the  whole  building.  The  windows  were  left  clean  and 
beautiful.  Hafa  Nuther  gave  the  spigot  a  gentle  twist 
and  the  waterspout  lapsed  again  into  the  barrel,  without 
having  spilled  a  drop  of  itself 

The  owner  of  the  building  marveled  greatly  at  the 
deed,  and  wanted  to  buy  the  equipment,  but  Hafa  Nuther 
refused  to  sell.  He  collected  the  money  for  the  work  and 
drove  on  to  the  next  city. 

Here  he  spent  a  busy  and  profitable  week,  as  there 
were  many  windows  to  be  cleaned,  and  he  was  also  in- 
duced to  give  an  exhibition  on  the  public  square.  It  was 
considered  remarkable  that  he  could  so  control  the  water- 
spout that  it  would  rush  madly  into  the  air  and  do  his 
bidding,  and  then,  by  the  force  of  its  own  whirling,  be 
compelled  to  draw  itself  back  into  the  barrel. 

His  course  of  travel  led  him  through  Kentucky,  but 
there  he  found  little  to  do,  aside  from  pulling  corks, 
although  he  was  given  a  medal  for  being  the  discoverer  of 
a  method  for  preventing  water  from  working  damage. 

And  so  he  moved  along  the  road,  until  finally  he  landed 
in  New  York.  There  he  fell  under  the  spell  of  some  of 
the  kings  of  finance  who  found  it  very  easy  to  demonstrate 


to  him  that  he  was  losing  money  every  time  he  made  a 
dollar.  They  proved  to  him  that  what  he  ought  to  do 
was  to  float  the  w'aterspout  in  a  gigantic  stock  company, 
and  at  last  he  yielded  to  their  pleadings.  In  return  for  the 
waterspout  he  was  to  receive  many  millions  of  dollars  in 
stock.  The  company  was  formed  and  Hafa  Nuther's 
securities  were  turned  over  to  him,  and  he  was  made  act- 
ing superintendent  of  the  plant — for  it  was  the  intention  to 
use  his  barrel  and  ingenious  faucet  as  a  model  and  manu- 
facture waterspout  outfits  by  wholesale,  filling  the  barrels 
with  water  from  the  ocean,  which  was  convenient.  But 
just  when  the  factory  was  ready  to  commence  operations 
a  calamity  occurred.  Hafa  Nuther,  with  a  gang  of  work- 
men, was  on  the  beach,  ready  to  fill  the  first  of  the  water- 
spout barrels,  when  some  meddler  turned  on  the  spigot  of 
the  original  barrel  and  released  the  genuine  waterspout. 
With  a  whizz  it  was  gone,  and  before  Hafa  Nuther  could 
collect  his  senses  it  was  scudding  far  away  over  the 
bounding  deep. 

So  he  went  to  the  livery  stable,  paid  the  feed  bill  for  his 
horse  and  returned  to  his  distant  home.  There  he  sat  again 
in  the  door  of  his  tent  and  moodily  thought  upon  his  lack  of 
judgment  in  yielding  to  the  arguments  of  the  promoters. 

And  it  chanced  again  that  as  he  sat  in  the  door  of  his 
tent  one  evening  he  discerned  a  waterspout  looming  up  on 
the  horizon.  Wearily  he  turned  his  eyes  away  from  it,  for 
he  had  left  his  barrel  in  New  York.  In  a  moment  it  was 
opposite  him,  and  to  his  surprise,  a  shower  of  large  pieces 
of  parchment  fell  all  about  him.  They  were  the  watered 
bonds  of  the  company  he  had  been  induced  to  organize. 
He  gathered  them  up,  waved  a  hand  in  thankfulness  to  the 
disappearing  waterspout,  and  began  clipping  coupons. 

That  fall  he  built  an  L  to  his  tent  and  bought  another 
water  pipe.  But  he  still  urges  conservatism  and  discretion 
upon  the  young  who  come  to  him  for  advice. 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  your  number,"  he  will  say.  "  It 
takes  a  long  time  to  dry  out  if  you  once  get  soaked." 


■  HE   E.\SILY    INDUCED   IT  TO   COLLAPSE  INTO   HIS  BARREL," 


A  Stone-dead  Town. 

O  YOU  keep  ping- 
pong  ?"  asked  the 
new  resident  of 
the  proprietor  of  the  vil- 
.lage  grocery-  and  general 
emporium. 

"  Well,  mum,"  was  the 
answer,  "  we  hain't  or- 
dered all  our  line  o"  fancy 
groceries  fer  the  sum- 
mer, and  " 

"  Oh,  mercy  !  It  isn't 
a  grocery — it  is  " 

"I  know  it  ain't," 
broke  in  the  storekeeper. 
"  I  was  jest  a-goin'  to  say 
that  when  we  ordered 
them  we  was  goin'  to 
pick  out  the  latest  pat- 
terns in  neckties,  because 
we  have  a  good  trade 
now,  and  " 

"  Goodness  me,  man  ! 
it  isn't  to  wear  —  it  is 
to  " 

"  I  know  that,  too," 
interrupted^  the  proprie- 
tor of  the  store  again  ; 
'•  I  know  that.  I  was 
about  to  tell  you  that  we 


ladv. 


WITH   THE   ACCENT   ON   THE   S.WV. 
T.\TTERED  Tom — "  I  heard  dat  I  could  git  somethin'  ter  eat  here, 


"  Dear  me  !"  put  in 
the  lady.  "  Ping-pong 
isn't  a  book  —  it's  a 
game." 

"  Well,"  said  the  mer- 
chant, "  we  try  to  handle 
all  the  new  goods  our 
customers  demand  ;  but 
when  it  comes  to  games, 
why,  seven-up  and  cro- 
kinole  holds  the  banner 
in  this  town,  and  I  don't 
reckon  we  want  to  make 
any  change  this  year." 

Inaccurate. 

t<THf  papers  have  a 
mighty  garbled 
report  of  the  contest," 
said  the  champion  pugi 
list. 

"  H  a ve  n't  they?"' 
echoed  his  secretary. 

"  Awful  !"  continued 
the  scrapper.  "  Wliy,  I 
have  been  misquoted  a 
dozen  times  in  four 
rounds." 


Mrs.  Quickly — "Well,  that'll  depend  a  heap  more  on  what  you  

saw  than  on  what  you  heard." 

J ev  0  n  s  — "  Who  is 

are  intendin"  to  put  in  all  the  latest  novels  when  we  lay  in      that  shabby  old  man  you  just  nodded  to  ?" 
our  new  stocks,  and  if  you'll  come  around  then  we'll  be  Vine — "  The     author   of    that   article   you    so    much 

sure  to  have  " admired  on  '  how  to  succeed.'  " 


A   RURAL  INTERPRETATION. 
"Our  son  writes  from  Yale  that  he  expects  to  coach  the  football  eleven.     Bercussed  ef  I'll  pay  fer  anny  o'  his  'tally- 
ho'  hires.     He'll  be  wantin'  ter  take  'em  out  autermobeelin'  next,  b'gosh  !" 


Bx  WiLUAM  MacLeod  Rainb, 


ILLCSTBATED    BT    J.    H.    SMITH, 


jUMA  bill  shook  hands  solemnly 
and  thankfully  with  a  varied  assort- 
ment of  bullwhackers,  cowpunch- 
ers  and  miners  at  the  Red  Eagle 
saloon  in  Tombstone.  He  urged 
them  with  genial  profanity  to  liq- 
uor up  as  much  as  they  pleased 
at  his  expense.  Even  Chinks  and  greasers  were  in- 
cluded in  his  offer.  The  cause  of  his  private  Thanks- 
giving day  was  a  safe  return  from  the  wilds  of  civiliza- 
tion. He  had  ventured  into  the  effete  east  as  far  as 
Omaha,  and  had  been  brought  back  in  safety  by  a 
watchful  Providence  from  its  dangers  and  privations. 

He  poured  half  a  pint  of  Arizona  poison  down  his 
throat  and  relaxed  into  reminiscence  with  a  cheer- 
ful sigh. 

"I  shore  am  right  glad  to  git  back  to  God's  coun- 
try, where  folks  take  their  drinks  and  men  straight. 
They  shorely  do  spoil  more  good  whiskey  than  a  little 
mixing  drinks  in  the  east.      Onct  a  Kansas  City  short- 


horn took  me  in  to  drink,  and  before  I  knew  what  it 
was  I  had  swallowed  a  glass  of  ginger  ale.  Mother  of 
Moses,  gents  !  Think  of  Yuma  Bill  drinkin'  ginger 
ale.  The  doctors  worked  over  me  six  hours.  Natch- 
erally,  when  I  comes  to,  I  sez  to  that  stray  which  had 
pizened  me, 

"  'There's  a  gent  here,  which  he  hangs  up  his 
sombrero  at  K.  C,  Missouri,  who  wearies  me.  Turn 
your  wolf  loose  and  come  a-shootin'.'  I  threw  a  gun 
on  him,  meaning  to  git  him  in  the  flapper.  That 
gun-play  cost  me  just  seventy-five  plunks.  Seems  like 
it's  contrary  to  law  back  east  to  shoot  up  a  man  with- 
out a  license. 

"  Bein'  needful  of  some  grub  I  trails  into  a  tony 
chuck-house.  It  shore  was  like  a  play.  A  gent 
dressed  like  that  lord  feller  in  the  play  here  last  win- 
ter marched  me  to  a  table,  my  spurs  a-clinkin'  that 
loud  so  's  about  a  dozen  ladies  smiled  right  at  me. 
He  pulls  back  a  chair  for  me  and  pushes  it  in  after  I'd 
sat  down. " 


"■•■■■»  V.  -jjv  Ji-,%;s'i«iaeto!i*.^s2i^| 


'BACK   TO   GODS   COUNTRY. 


YUMA    BILL    VISITS    THE    METROPOLIS 


"  Them  effete  easterners  must  be  mighty  puny  if  they 
can't  pull  back  they-all's  own  chairs,"  remarked  a  Tucson 
resident  who  happened  to  be  present. 

"  Naw,  they  're  mighty  hardy  some  ways.  'Fore  I  'd 
walked  a  dozen  blocks  on  their  durned  sidewalks  I  was 
plumb  tuckered,  but  they  can  keep  a-goin'  all  day,  even 
the  frailest.  Well,  this  lord  feller  he  shoves  a  paper  at 
me.  '  Have  a  me-'n'-you  ?'  sez  he.  I  jumps  right  up  and 
takes  his  paw.  '  Pard,'  says  I,  '  now  you  're  shoutin'. 
You  're  a  white  man  from  the  ground  up.  How  air  things 
a-stackin'  with  you  ?  Bring  on  your  me-'n'-you.  I  don't 
know  what  it  is  any  more  'n  a  Sonora  jack  rabbit,  but  I've 
drunk  your  eastern  Manhattans  and  your  Martinis,  and  I'm 
a  Mexican  if  it  can  be  worse  than  ginger  ale.'  He  looked 
real  embarrassed  and  explained  that  the  me-'n'-you  was 
the  billie-fair  card  I  had  in  my  fist.  It  was  all  writ  in 
French.  He  shore  had  me  plumb  hog-tied,  and  when  the 
nigger  came  for  my  order  my  upper  story  was  finishing  a 
stampede  and  jist  milling  'round  and  'round.  Back  east 
when  you  want  a  cow-steak  and  coffee  you  're  liable  to 
starve  to  death  while  you  're  learnin'  to  ride  herd  on  their 
furrin  langwidge  to  ask  fer  it  with. 

"  '  I  don't  savvy  Rooshian,'  sez  I  to  the  colored  gent. 
'  My  stomach  's  too  good  a  friend  of  mine  fer  me  to  send 
it  bucking  up  against  furrin-langwidge  chuck  it  doesn't 
sav\'y,  which  same  mebbe  ain't  its  long  suit,  Ephriam. 
Bring  me  some  plain  American  chuck.' 

"  '  Chuck  ?  I  miscomprehend  you,  sah.  It's  not  on  the 
billie-fair,  sah,'  sez  he. 

"  '  Oh,  Lord  !  he  's  not  on  to  American  talk,'  I  thought. 


Then  I  played  the  limit  and  put  down  all  my  chips. 
'  Bring  me  anything  you  got  in  the  durned  house — some 
cow-steaks  or  jerky  or  frijoles  or  chile  cop  carne.  What 
I  want  you  to  get  into  your  cocoanut  is  that  I  came  in  to 
this  chuck-house  to  be  cornfed.  The  bank  's  yours  to  back 
the  play.  I'm  right  off  the  range,  'Rastus,  and  the  best 
you  got  in  the  crib  ain't  any  too  good  for  Yuma  Bill.  And 
I  say,  Mr.  Johnsing,  United  States  sounds  mighty  good  to 
talk  to  me.  Don't  you-all  reckon  you  can  git  on  to  A-B-C 
primer  talk  ?'  Then  I  planks  a  dollar  down  on  the  table 
and  says,  '  That  depreciated  dollar  is  a-sayin'  mighty  loud 
that  Mistah  Ebenezer  Lincoln  Washington  is  going  to  cor- 
ral it  if  he  rustles  up  in  this  hacienda  some  kind  of  chuck 
that  a  white  man  can  eat  without  tasting  frogs.'  Gents, 
Moses  comprehended  the  first  throw  out  of  the  bo.\.  You  'd 
ought  to  have  seen  him  hit  the  high  places  for  the  next 
forty  minutes.  The  other  guests  quit  grubbing  and 
watched  me  throw  the  diamond  hitch  on  that  chuck,  and 
when  I  had  rounded  up  the  whole  doggoned  lot  they  sent 
a  delegation  over  to  find  out  where  I  had  lassoed  an  ap- 
petite like  that." 

"  They're  such  durned  queer  cusses,  easterners.  Put 
'em  on  an  open  Arizona  mesa  and  it's  blue  chips  to  white 
they  lose  themselves  worse  than  a  locoed  calf ;  but  in  their 
little  mixed-up  streets  they  don't  ever  have  to  take  the  dust 
or  use  a  bucking-strap,"  suggested  Yuma  Bill's  brother. 

"  That's  whatever,'^'  agreed  Yuma  Bill  fervently.  "  I'll 
be  locoed  if  I  didn't  lose  myself  about  six  times  a  day  and 
have  to  be  taken  back  to  my  hotel  by  a  marshal  in  a  blue 
uniform.     By  gosh  !  I  used  to  git  lost  in  the  hotel  corridors 


^:^-;,.    |^;^.O^j    ,^,.:-;-J| 


"  '  mk-'n'-you  !'  " 


YUMA    BII.L    VISITS    THE    METROPOLIS 


and  wander  around  as 
crazy  as  an  old  cow  at 
a  calf  branding.  It's  a 
frozen  fact  that  the  boys 
had  to  git  a  spool  of 
thread  to  tie  to  my  door- 
knob and  trail  down  to 
the  hotel  clerk's  desk 
so 's  I  could  find  my 
way  out  to  the  street. 
I  reckon  some  one  saved 
my  life  from  those  trol- 
ley-cars and  automo- 
biles a  dozen  times  a 
day.  Infants  like  us 
cowpunchers  hadn't 
ought  to  beturned  loose 
alone  in  big  cities  like 
Omaha  or  Denver.  We 
'd  ought  to  have  a  night 
herd  with  us  to  keep  us 
from  stampeding. 

"  Everything  's  so 
dumed  inconvenient  in 
cities.      A    feller    gits 

up  and  strikes  matches  for  about  an  hour  and  can't 
find  the  lamp.  Then  he  remembers  to  press  a  but- 
ton for  the  little  runt  in  brass  buttons,  and  he 
comes  up  and  turns  on  a  switch  right  by  the  bed. 
How  in  thunder  d'  they  expect  a  man  to  remember 
they  don't  use  kerosene  ?"  inquired  Yuma  Bill's  brother 
plaintively. 


"THE   WILDS   OF   C1VILIZ.\TI0N. 


"  You  're  shore  talking  horse  sense,"  agreed  Yuma  Bill- 
"  I'm  dealing  it  you  straight  off  the  top  of  the  pack  when  I 
say  that  greasers  air  undercivilized  and  the  effete  east  is 
overcivilized.  Now  Arizona  ain't  underdone  and  it  ain't 
overdone.  Gents,  I  drinks  to  God's  country — big  old  Ari- 
zona, which  same  is  certainly  on  the  map  to  stay." 

His  auditors  drank  the  toast  with  reverent  unanimity. 


A  COMPARATIVE  CINCH. 
Mrs.  Newlywed — "Folks  say  you  married  me  for  my  gold." 

Mr.  NtWLYWED — "What  nonsense  !    If  I'd  simply  wanted  gold  I  could  have  got  it  with  far  less  hardship 
and  suffering  in  Thunder  mountain  or  Alaska." 


A  Case  of  Forced  Liquidation 


By  T.  L.  MASSON 


''M 


fY  DEAR,  we  are  up  against  it." 

Dimpleton,  almost  staggering  home 
in  the  dusk  of  evening,  met  his  wife  in  the 
dim  hallway. 

"I  knew,"  she  said,  "that  something  dreadful  had 
happened.  The  telephone  has  been  ringing  all  day  long. 
Those  checks" 

"  Exactly.  The  checks  you've  sent  out  have  all  been 
refused. " 

"Has  the  bank  failed?"  inquired  Mrs.  Dimpleton 
anxiously. 

Her  husband  regarded  her  gravely.  It  was  evident  he 
was  somewhat  rattled. 

"  I  don't  see  any  difference, "  he  said,  "  between  fail- 
ure and  refusing  to  pay.  You  see,  there  has  been  a  run 
on  the  institution,  and  they  have  been  fighting  every 
inch." 

"  But  why  shouldn't  they  pay  our  checks?  You  have 
money  enough  in  the  bank" 

Dimpleton  groaned. 

"  Why,  my  dear, "  he  said,  "  all  my  available  cash  is  in 
there. " 

"  Can't  you  borrow  some?  We  have  bonds" 

Her  husband  smiled. 

"Bonds!"  he  exclaimed.  " Bonds  are  falling  in  Wall 
Street  like  autumn  leaves.  You  couldn't  get  car-fare  on 
one  of  them." 

"But,  my  dear,  those  tradespeople! — ^you  see  they  are 
all  alarmed  about  those  checks  coming  back. " 

Her  husband  sank  down  in  his  chair.  He  was  com- 
pletely unnerved.  The  excitement  of  going  through  a 
money  panic,  coupled  with  his  previous  efforts  to  conceal 
the  worst  from  his  wife,  had  been  too  much  for  him. 

"I  see  no  hope,"  he  said.  "Practically  not  a  cent  of 
cash  left,  and  no  way  to  raise  any.  These  tradesmen — 
from  whom  we  get  our  necessary  food — wOl,  of  course, 
stop  short." 

He  looked  at  Mrs.  Dimpleton  miserably. 

"Yesterday,"  he  muttered,  "we  were  prosperous. 
To-morrow  we  will  be  starving." 

He  sprang  up. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  do, "  he  cried.  "  I  will  call 
on  those  people  at  once  and  explain  the  awful  truth.  I 
will  throw  myself  upon  their  mercy.  I  will  beg  our  bread, 
if  necessary,  from  grocer  to  grocer." 

His  wife  put  her  hand  on  his  forehead  soothingly. 


"There's  enough  in  the  house  to-night,"  she  said. 
"Let's  wait  for  to-morrow." 

The  next  morning,  however,  the  sad  truth  began  to 
dawn  upon  even  this  courageous  lady. 

Ever}'  tradesman  she  called  up  "regretted  the  neces- 
sity, "  etc.  He  was  sorry,  but  unless  the  money  was  forth- 
coming, etc. 

"And  so  this,"  she  exclaimed,  furious  with  anger, 
"comes  from  our  always  paying  our  bills  so  promptly. 
You  see,  we  have  made  a  point  of  this. " 

Suddenly  she  tmrned  to  her  dejected  husband. 

"Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  "haveyouany  money  at  aU?" 

"  I've  got  about  two  dollars. " 

"Good!  And  there's  the  baby's  bank." 

It  took  but  a  moment  to  release  the  combination  of  that 
stronghold.  It  took  but  another  moment  to  count  out,  in 
small  change,  the  magnificent  sum  of  nineteen  dollars. 

"We  shall  see,"  murmured  Mrs.  Dimpleton,  hurry- 
ing on  her  clothes. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Never  mind." 

She  proceeded  to  the  nearest  bank,  where  there  wasn't 
a  run. 

"  Can  you  let  me  have  two  ten-dollar  bills, "  she  asked 
the  paying-teller  pleasantly,  "for  this  small  change?" 

"Certainly,  madam." 

"Thank  you." 

Hurrying  home  to  her  room,  it  required  but  a  few  mo- 
ments, with  her  deft  fingers,  to  cut  from  one  of  the  ten-dollar 
bills  two  ciphers.  She  then  cut  a  space  after  the  ten  in 
the  remaining  bill  to  accommodate  these  ciphers,  and  in 
a  few  moments  she  held  in  her  hand  what  the  most  prac- 
ticed observer,  looking  at  it  in  a  casual  way,  would  have 
sworn  was  a  thousand-dollar  note.  Rapidly  making  a 
wad  of  paper,  she  put  the  bill  around  it,  fastening  it  with  a 
rubber  band,  and  once  more  started  forth. 

The  first  place  she  visited  was  her  grocer. 

"Mr.  Buscom,  I  came  in  to  pay  my  bill.  You  were 
so  nervous  about  that  check  you  got  back  that" 

Mr.  Buscom  looked  at  her  doubtfully. 

"Awfully  sorry,"  he  muttered,  "but" 

"You  knew  there  had  been  a  run  on  our  bank" 

"Yes;  but" 

"You  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  we  had  no  other 
resources." 


THE  EVOLUTION  OP  THE  GOLF  FIEND. 


A  GOOD   RECOMMENDATION. 
"  That  Jones  boy  that  used  to  work  for  you  wants  to  hire 
out  to  me.    Is  he  steady  ?" 

"Youbet!   If  he  was  any  steadier  he'd  be  motionless." 

"Xobody  has  in  these  tnnng  times,  madam.  Besides, 
you  should  appreciate  that  people  won't  trust  us  and,  of 
course,  we  have  to  protect  ourselves" 

'Mis.  Dimpleton  raised  her  hand. 

"  I  did  not  come  here  to  argue  with  you, "  she  said 
sharply,  "but  to  settle.  Can  you  change  a  thousand- 
doUar  bill  ?  I  have  nothing  smaller. " 

She  pulled  the  roll  from  her  pocket  where  he  could 
plainly  see  it. 

"  After  the  last  panic, "  she  said  calmly, "  we  put  away 
this  bill,  for  emergencies,  in  the  safe-deposit  vault. " 

"But  I  can't  change  that,  madam,"  said  Buscom,  his 
eyes  sticking  out. 

"Vet)'  well,  sir,  I  will  get  the  change,  and  you  call  at 
my  house  to-morrow  morning.     Good-day. " 

"But,  madam" — he  hurried  after  her — "I  beg  your 
pardon.     I  thought" 

"I  know  exactly  what  you  thought  Good-morn- 
ing." 

"Let  me  fill  your  order." 

"No,  thank  you,"  haughtily.  "I  shall  transfer  my 
trade  elsewhere." 

"But  I  beg  of  you  to  reconsider." 

Buscom  was  now  as  feverish  as  he  had  before  been 
chilly. 

"  Please  don't  lay  it  up  against  me, "  he  said.  "  It  was 
all  a  misunderstanding." 

In  reply  Mrs.  Dimpleton  txumed  around  superciliously. 

"I'U  give  )'ou  one  more  chance, "  she  said. 

That  evening,  surrounded  by  packages  and  parcels  of 
aU  sizes  and  conditions,  which  had  been  arriving  from 
tradespeople  all  day,  she  smiled  serenely  on  her  aston- 
ished husband. 


"It  didn't  cost  me  a  cent,"  she  said. 

"But  how  in  the  world  did  you  do  it?"  he  asked. 

The  lady  laughed  blithely. 

"Quite  easily,"  she  replied.  "I  took  the  only  avail- 
able security  I  had  and  watered  it  enough  to  restore  a  lost 
confidence. " 

What  Might  Have  Happened. 

GOD  was  wise  in  making  man 
Last  of  all,  when  He  began. 
Since,  when  Cosmos  was  expected. 
Some  would  surely  have  objected. 
Claiming,  spite  of  newer  lights. 
Chaos  had  some  "prior  rights"; 
And  perhaps  the  universe 
Might  take  on  a  change  for  woisel 

And  a  Chaos  party  might 
Have  arisen  in  a  night, 
Formulated  their  dissent, 
Seized  the  reins  of  government, 
Writ  on  fig-leaves,  in  solution. 
Something  called  a  constitution 
On  which,  to  make  sure  of  it, 
A  perpetual  court  should  sit 

And  in  speeches  strong  and  hearty 
They'd  have  damned  the  Cosmic  party; 
Called  them  evilly  disposed 
(Maybe  God  had  been  deposed). 
Anyway,  the  Chaos  faction 
Would  have  plead  for  slower  action — 
Met  and  grieved  in  resolutions 
Over  ancient  institutions 

Which  had  sers-ed  so  long.     'Twas  thus 
Quite  a  lucky  thing  for  us 
That  most  ancient  things  were  banished 
When  the  night  of  Chaos  vanished. 
All  our  protests  thus  forestalling. 
Otherwise — the  thought's  appalling! — 
What  a  host  of  men  we  know 
Would  defend  the  status  quo! 

JOSEPH    DANA   laLLSR. 

A  Primer  Lesson. 

CEE  the  man. 

•^    Is  he  not  working  hard  ?    Just  see  how  he  is  da.shing 

off  jokes  and  things! 

He  is  the  man  who  used  to  write  plaj-ful  witticisms 
about  a  woman  shopping  all  day  on  fifteen  cents. 

And  now? 

Ah,  he  is  married  now — and  his  wife  is  down  town 
getting  her  spring  outfit 


AN  EXPERT  OPINION. 
Professor  Drake— "And  this,  my  dears,  is  what  ie 
known  as  a  submarine  bird." 


XHe  TurTiing' 
of    TKe 

JOKE 


"Writ,t,e«.  fei  lUus-trated 
Bjr  A-lber-t  Levering   •. 


IS-S-S-T  !"  The  editor  of 
Humorous  Halftones 
slanted  his  head,  turned 
it  half  way  round,'  then 
froze.  Grimly  he 
gripped  the  arms  of  the 
great  plush  chair,  and 
gazed  ominously  at  the 
frayed  figure  that  stood, 
swaying  impudently, 
barely  within  the  mar- 
ble portal  and  from 
whom,  apparently,  had 
issued  the  hissing  sound. 

"Slather  me!"  he  of  the  great  plush  chair  rum- 
bled ;  "so  it  is  you,  is  it  ? '  I  heard  you  were  dead, 
or  gone  to  England,  along  with  a  number  of  other 
formerly  edifying  but  now  obsolete  Americans,  and 
I'll  add,  I  hoped  it  was  true."  The  other  swayed  to 
and  fro  for  a  second  and  then  edged  an  inch  forward. 

"Yes,  dat's  me,  boss  ;  an'  I 
knows  jest  how  youse  feels 
about  it,"  he  said  in  a  gently 
gay  way.  "I  don't  t'ink  dat  I 
am  de  swellest  mug  wot  flits 
acrost  dat  lovely  dial  o'  yours 
dese  days — but,  wot  wit'  de  ads 
fer  baked  beanses  an'  pickled 
wheaterine,  wot  yer  eye  meets 
in  de  daily  rides  o'  life,  dey've 
got  me  'way  back  on  de  quarry 
switch,  an'" — flicking  a  remnant 
of  free  lunch  from  his  lapel — 
"an'  hence,  I  don't  s'pose  I 
does  look  de  gay  an'  dapper 
soldier  o'  fortin  I  wunst  does. 
Yit, "  he  continued,  "  I  remem- 
bers  de  days  when   youse  had 


youse  oflSce  up  Catfish  alley  next  to  de  tombstone 
woiks,  and  den  when  I  showed  up  wit'  me  cheerful 
an'  happy  an'  doity  mug,  me  tin  can  an'  me  purp, 
youse  wuz  glad  "  (here  the  semblance  of  a  sob  shud- 
dered over  the  ancient  frame),  "fer  I  wuz  always  good 
fer  a  sandwidge  an'   a   nice  sprinklin'  can   full   o'   de 

nut-brown  "■ 

The  editor  shivered.  "Oh,  side-track  that!"  he 
cried  impatiently.  "Can't  you  see  that  you  are  out 
of  it }  Can't  you  see  that  the  camera  has  made  you 
impossible  1  Can't  you  see  that  the  automobile  has 
thundered  over  you  and  left  you  an  inert  mass  at  the 
switch  ?  That  the  air-ship  floats  miles  over  your 
lonely  grave  ?  Now  you  get  out  of  here  or  I'll  turn 
the  live  wire  loose  on  you."  The  tramp  joke  with  an 
eff'ort  then  began  again  : 

"Mister  Bumcheck,  dem  woids  is  not  new;  I've 
heerd  'em  month  in  an'  month  out,  an'  dey  has  been 
gittin'  fainter  an'  fainter  in  dese  years,  but  I'm  here 
ter-day  ter  make  one   final   appeal.      I  knows  I'm  an 


"AND  TRUNDLED   THE   HEAVY    FILE   TO   THE   COMPOSING-ROOM. 


THE    TURNING    OF    THE    JOKE. 


'  Bl-T   THE   APPEAL   WAS   NE\1ER   FINISHED." 


old  one,  but  I'm  a  wise  one,  too.  I've  copped  de  immi- 
gration an'  de  birth  lists,  an"  I  knows  deyse  rafts  an'  rafts 
o'  people  dat   never  even  heerd  o'  me,  an' 

link  o'  de  " but   the  appeal  was  never 

finished,  for  the  massive  bronze  door 
slammed  with  a  mighty  bang  as  the  frayed 
one,  terrified  beyond  hope  by  the  glare  of 
the  gathering  storm  in  the  editor's  eje, 
skipped  nimbly  through  it,  followed  by  the 
crash  of  a  liquid-air  experiment  thrown  by 
the  irate  editor. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day, 
to  be  precise,  at  twenty  minutes  past  two 
o'clock,  the  editor  of  Hutnorous  Halftones 
loosed  the  lever  of  his  giant  red  devil  and 
sped  hastily,  though  somewhat  recklessly, 
in  the  direction  of  the  e.xclusive  stockbloat- 
ers'  club. 

Simultaneously  a  shadowy  figure  fur- 
tively crawled  from  beneath  the  door-mat 
marked  "  Welcome,"  which  lay  just  with- 
out the  entrance  of  the  editorial  parlors. 
It  was  our  ragged  and  unfortunate  ac- 
quaintance of  the  morning. 

He  turned  the  diamond-incrusted  door- 
knob and  glided  within,  unheeded  by  the 
scrub-lady  busily  engaged  in  polishing  the 
twenty-dollar  gold  pieces  incased  in  the 
floor  tilings.  On  into  the  sacred  private 
office  of  the  editor  he  went,  and  paused 
only  when  he  stood  beside  the  great  plush 


chair.     There  he  stood  for  a  brief  instant,  and  then  with 
trembling  hands  and   an   inward   chuckle,  he  took  up  the 


"AN   OVERTURNED    'CUP   OF  COFFEE'   COMIC." 


THE    TURNING    OF    THE   JOKE. 


crowded  joke-file  which  lay  on  the  still  open  desk. 
Hastily  removing  a  foot  and  a  half  of  closely  packed 
Easter  bonnet  merriment  and  two  corpulent  automobile 
jests,  he  came  upon  what  was  to  an  immune  a  delicious 
repast  of  cold-boiled-lobster-dream  series,  temptingly  hu- 
morous, and  which  his  hungry  eyes  had  ferreted  out  dur- 
ing his  unhappy  forenoon  visit.  This  he  spread  carefully 
on  an  arm  of  the  great  plush  chair.  Turning  once  again 
to  the  promising  file,  he  secured  a  large  cold-bottle  joke 
tipsily  suggestive  of  gayety  and  warmth,  which  he  located 
at  his  right  hand  within  easy  reach,  and  without  grace  he 
fell  to. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  he  lighted  "  The  possibilities  of  a 
Cuban  perfecto  "  joke- 
let,  and  by  the  aid  of  it 
finished  an  overturn- 
ed-cup-of-coffee  com- 
ic series  in  two  pic- 
tures. Altogether  at 
peace  with  the  world 
now,  he  sat  and  gazed 
dreamily  around  him, 
and  the  benign  glow 
which  overspread 
his  aged  and  limned 
features  made  of  him 
an  almost  pleasing 
picture. 

A  reasonable  space 
of  time  he  thus  spent 
in  genial  enjoyment 
of  his  present  happy 


"FURTIVELY   CRAWLED   FROM    BENEATH   THE   DOOR-MAT." 


State  of  mind,  while  his  gaze  wandered  carelessly  over 
the  room  ;  then  it  rested  again  upon  the  joke-file,  and 
suddenly  a  light,  lit  by  the  faint  spark  of  remaining  humor, 
appeared  in  the  eyes  dulled  by  countless  and  turbulent 
years,  and  he  giggled. 

"  Yes,  I'll  do  it,"  he  mutters.  "  I'll  jest  carve  me  old 
initials  on  dis  joint  good  an'  deep,  an'  fer  de  las'  time." 

Climbing  up  on  the  hugh  desk,  he  gently  impaled  him- 
self in  the  old  familiar  way  on  the  joke-file,  drew  down 
the  ponderous  automobiles  over  him,  and  later  the  lighter 
Easter  bonnets,  and  with  a  gentle  sigh  of  contentment 
drifted  into  happy  dreamland. 

An    hour    later    a    snub-nosed    lad,    with     a    truck, 

bunted  noisily  in 
and  trundled  the 
heavy  joke-file  to  the 
composing-room. 

Two  weeks  later 
the  old  tramp  joke, 
with  a  new  humor, 
produced  doubtless 
by  the  sense  of  pecul- 
iar yet  awkward  po- 
sition, diffused  a  feel- 
ing of  boisterous  joy 
to  old  and  young,  io 
all  men  alike,  save  to 
that  one  who  sits  in 
the  great  plush  chair, 
that  he  never  in  his 
youthful  days  had 
equaled. 


A  Moonlight  Pastel. 


HE  moonlight  fell  full  upon  the  green- 
sward of  the  park  at  Palm  beach. 
The  greensward  was  soft,  however, 
and  the  moonlight  sustained  no  seri- 
ous injuries.  Two  figures  might  have 
been  seen  sitting  in  a  secluded  nook. 
They  were  economizing  space  in  a 
painfully  evident  manner.  The  voice 
of  the  youth  rose  and  fell  to  the  music 
ot  the  sea,  and  finally  staggered  to  its  feet  and  remarked, 

"  Winsome  damsel,  I  am  in  love.  I  have  arrived  at 
this  conclusion  not  hastily,  but  after  careful  introspection 
and  e.xperimentation.  Since  first  I  met  you  I  have  been 
troubled,  my  most  alarming  symptom  being  an  aching^ 
void.  To-night  the  throbbing  of  that  vacuum  has  been  so 
strong  that  I  have  been  able  to  locate  it  in  my  heart." 

The  voice  of  the  youth  choked  with  mingled  emotion 
and  tobacco,  both  of  which  he  had  been  swallowing  right 
along.  Spreading  a  handkerchief  upon  the  ground,  he 
fell  upon  his  knees,  severing  in  his  impetuosity  the  last 
bond  of  connection  between  his  suspenders  and  his  sky- 
"blue  trousers. 


"  Oh,  fairest  of  maids  !"  he  pleaded,  "enter  now  into 
that  emptiness  and  fill  it  with  thy  light  and  lavender 
perfume." 

The  fairest  of  maids  smiled  sadly  and  abruptly.  Her 
face  wore  that  far-away  expression  so  characteristic  of 
Pike's  peak.  Her  mind  was  wandering  down  the  dim 
corridors  of  memory  and  had  far  to  go.  Her  silence  had 
the  delicate  odor  of  pepsin  gum.  The  youth  pressed  her 
for  an  answer  until  his  arm  ached  with  e.xertion. 

Finally,  after  consulting  her  note-book,  she  made  reply, 

"  At  present  I  am  heart-free.  However,  Jimmie  Brown 
is  scheduled  for  two  weeks  from  next  Monday  ;  until  then 
I  am  thine." 

As  the  fateful  words  fell  from  her  lips  the  youth  caught 
them  before  they  hit  the  ground  and  pressed  them  to  his 
bosom.  The  maid  leaned  over  and  planted  a  kiss  on  his 
youthful  brow,  coyly  removing  her  teeth  as  she  did  so. 

After  regulating  their  hearts  so  as  to  run  neck  and 
neck,  and  combining  their  thoughts  into  one  idea,  they 
wandered  out  into  the  cold,  unfeeling  world,  and  naught 
could  be  heard  in  the  palm-punctured  atmosphere  save 
the  strident  bazoo  of  the  dyspeptic  toy  alligator. 


BACK  TO  BOYHOOD 


By  W.  D.  Nesbit 


"I 


rT  IS  thirty  long  years  since  I  saw  this  spot," 
said  the  Hon.  Elias  Porterfield  Higgins  to  his 
wife. 

They  were  driving  up  the  main  street  of 
Greenville.  Greenville  was  the  placid  town  in  which 
Elias  had  spent  his  boyhood,  and  on  an  average  of  once 
a  week  since  he  was  married  he  had  talked  feelingly  of 
it,  and  had  asserted  that  one  of  these  times  he  would 
take  his  wife  there  and  show  her  where  he  got  his  start. 

Finally,  feeling  that  her  husband  needed  a  vacation 
that  should  be  different  from  the  ordinary  summer  trip, 
she  had  insisted  upon  going  to  Greenville.  And  here 
they  were. 

"  There  is  the  old  house  in  which  I  was  born,"  Elias 
said,  pointing  from  the  village  hack  to  a  little  cottage 
that  nestled  in  a  clump  of  trees  and  rose-bushes. 

"  'Tain't,  neither,  'Lias,"  said  the  driver  of  the  hack, 
who  had  been  listening.  "You  was  borned  in  a  house 
'way  over  the  other  side  o'  the  saw-mill." 

"  What — what?     How  do  you  know  about Who 

are  you,  sir?"  Mr.  Higgins  demanded  indignantly.  The 
Hon.  Elias  Porterfield  Higgins  was  not  accustomed  to 
being  contradicted,  nor  even  to  having  his  statements 
disputed. 

"You  oughter  know  me,  'Lias,"  the  driver  replied, 
grinning.     "  I'm  Pete  Murray." 

"Well,  well!  Pete  Murray!  By  gracious!  I'm  glad 
to  see  you." 

"  I  have  often  heard  Mr.  Higgins  speak  of  you,  Mr. 
Murray,"  Mrs.  Higgins  said,  smiling.  "He  talks  a 
great  deal  about  his  old  days  in  Greenville  and  of  his 
playmates  here." 

"I  knowed    he  wouldn't   forget  us,"  Pete  observed 

happily.  "  'Notherone         

o'  the  old  crowd  has 
come  back,  'Lias.  You 
remember  Curtis  Tut- 
tle,  don't  you?" 

"Don't  I?  We 
called  him  '  Peanut ' 
Tuttle  then.  He  be- 
came Governor  of  some 
State  out  West.  So 
he's  home,  too?" 

"  Yep.  Said  he 
wanted  to  come  back 
and  visit  the  scenes  o' 
childhood's  happy 
hours." 

"  Well,  speaking  of 
'Peanut'  Tuttle, "Mr. 
Higgins  remarked, 
"  right  across  there  in 
the    lot    back   of   the 


Methodist  church  I  gave  him  the  worst  drubbing  I  ever 
gave  a  boy  in  my  life — and  I  was  something  of  a  fighter 
—wasn't  I,  Pete?" 

"  Mr.  Higgins  is  always  telling  me  what  a  prodigious 
pugilist  he  was  as  a  boy,"  Mrs.  Higgins  said  proudly. 

"  He  hed  a  good  many  fights,  that's  sure,"  Pete  said 
non-committally.  "  Funny  thing,  though.  Curt  Tuttle 
was  a-talkin'  last  night  an'  sayin'  that  he  licked  you, 
'Lias." 

"  His  recollection  is  at  fault,"  Mr.  Higgins  said  with 
the  grand  air  he  always  assumes  when  he  wishes  to  end 
a  discussion. 

At  the  Greenville  Hotel  the  Higginses  met  the  Tuttles. 
Elias  and  Curtis  fell  upon  each  other's  neck  and  almost 
wept  in  the  joy  of  reunion.  Mrs.  Tuttle  and  Mrs.  Hig- 
gins were  becomingly  glad  to  meet  each  other,  and  lis- 
tened all  evening  to  their  husbands'  stories  of  prowess  in 
hunting,  fishing,  baseball,  foot-racing,  and  other  sports 
of  their  youthful  days  in  Greenville. 

The  two  men  parted  for  the  night  in  high  spirits,  and 
their  wives  said  to  them  that  the  visit  seem*d  to  have 
taken  ten  years  from  their  shoulders,  and  that  it  was  a 
pity  they  had  not  come  to  Greenville  oftener.  Next 
morning  the  Tuttles  and  Higginses  set  out  to  walk  about 
the  village.  Mr.  Higgins  wore  his  frock-suit  and  silk 
hat,  as  did  Mr.  Tuttle,  and  the  two  distinguished  sons  of 
the  village  were  stopped  many  times  during  their  prom- 
enade to  shake  hands  and  exchange  greetings  with  citi- 
zens who  remembered  them  and  who  felt  that  they  had 
honored  and  distinguished  their  native  town. 

Elias  Porterfield  Higgins  finally  found  his  birthplace, 
and  it  was  not  over  back  of  the  saw-mill,  either. 
Neither  was  it  the  cottage  he  had  first  selected.     But 

it  was  a  sufficiently 
quaint  old  place  to  ex- 
cite the  admiration  of 
Mrs.  Higgins  and  Mrs. 
Tuttle.  Then  Tuttle 
found  his  old  home, 
and  there  were  more 
reminiscences  and 
sighs  and  smiles  all 
around. 

Eventually  the  quar- 
tette reached  the 
Methodist  churchyard. 
"Curt,"  Higgins 
smiled,  "  remember 
the  day  you  and  I  had 
the  fight  here?" 

"Do  I?     I  should 


JUST  AN  AID  TO  MEIVIORY. 
Sarcastic  Carlo — "  Hal    I  see  you  have  been  to  town>" 
Cur — "  Oh,  that's  something  my  wife  tied  on  so  I  would  remembei  to 
bring  back  a  knuckle-bone." 


say!     What    did   we 
fight  about?" 

"I've  really  forgot- 


THOSE  MARRIAGE  BONDS. 

'  They  say  since  Jack  assumed  the  matrimonial  bonds  he  is  running  in  debt." 
'  Yes.     The  poor  chap  is  bonded  for  more  than  he's  worth,  I'm  afraid." 


ten  what  we  fought  over,  but  I  recollect  distinctly  that 
I  got  you  down  and  pinioned  you  with  my  knees  on  your 
arms  and  made  you  holler  enough." 

"  Like  the  dickens  you  did!  As  I  recall  it,  I  thumped 
you  all  over  the  face  and  blacked  one  of  your  eyes,  and 
the  boys  had  to  separate  us." 

"  Huh!  The  truth  of  it  is,  I  knocked  you  down  the 
first  lick." 

"  Rats!  Why,  I  remember  it  perfectly,  now.  I  had 
the  better  of  you  from  the  start,,  and  I  gave  it  to  you  so 
good  and  hot  that  you  turned  and  ran  and  cried  for  help 
all  the  way  home;  and  if  your  father  hadn't  come  out  to 
the  gate  I'd  have  chased  you  into  your  home." 

"  What!  'Lias  Higgins,  I  want  you  to  know  that  I 
never  ran  from  anybody  in  all  my  life." 

"  You  ran  from  me  all  right,  and  " 

.    "  I  licked  you  then,  and  I  can  do  it  again !" 

"  You  never  saw  the  day  you  could  lick  one  side  of 
me!" 

"  Elias!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Higgins. 

"Curtis!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tuttle. 

The  two  men  were  glaring  at  each  other.  Their  blood 
was  up,  their  silk  hats  were   tilted  back  on  their  heads. 

Biff!  The  Hon.  Elias  Porterfield  Higgins  whacked 
Governor  Curtis  Tuttle  on  the  ear. 


Blip !  Governor  Curtis  Tuttle  slapped  the  face 
of  the  Hon.  Elias  Porterfield  Higgins. 

The  two  portly  statesmen  swayed  back  and 
forth.  They  tried  neck-holds,  body-holds,  grape- 
vine twists,  and  even  attempted  fouling  in  th« 
clinch,  while  from  the  gathering  crowd  of  onlook- 
ers came  encouraging  shouts  and  jeers. 

Mrs.  Tuttle  was  in  hysterics;  Mrs.  Higgins  wa^, 
on  the  verge  of  fainting. 

Finally  the  two  men,  after  a  frenzied  lot  of 
wrestling,  fell  heavily  together;  then,  completely 
exhausted,  they  released  their  holds  and  lay  on 
the  grass,  panting  for  breath. 

"  Just  like  it  was  before,"  Pete  Murray  said, 
grinning;  "a  dog-fall.  Neither  one  o'  you  can 
lick  the  other." 

Governor  Curtis  Tuttle,  sat  up.  So  did  the  Hon. 
Elias  Higgins. 

"  Curt,"  sheepishly  said  Elias,  "  he's  right.  I 
remember  it  now." 

"Elias,"  Tuttle  said,  "I  recollected  it  when 
we  got  in  the  clinch." 

"Well,  there's  nothing  like  old  times,"  Hig- 
gins laughed,  extending  his  hand. 

"Nothing,  and  never  will  be,"  said  Tuttle, 
shaking  the  hand  heartily. 

And  although  their  wives  said  they  should  have 
been  ashamed  of  themselves,  the  two  men  wore 
their  battered  hats  back  to  the  hotel,  and  wore 
them  also  all  the  evening  while  they  sat  on  the 
porch  with  a  bunch  of  old  residents  and  bragged 
and  boasted  and  lied,  and  remembered  many  things 
that  never  happened.  But  while  they  were  on 
their  separate  trains  on  their  respective  home- 
ward trips  Tuttle  and  Higgins  each  turned  to  his 
wife  and  said,  "  I  licked  him  before,  and  I  could 
have  licked  him  again,  but  I  didn't  like  to  humbl"  him 
before  his  wife." 


Getting  Square. 

\  LANCASHIRE  lad  went  into  a  large  post-office  and 
■*"*■     asked  for  a  penny  stamp. 

"  Next  counter,"  said  the  clerk  brusquely.  "Can't 
you  read?     Look  at  the  labels." 

The  lad  did  not  answer.  He  went  to  the  counter  in  • 
dicated,  on  which  was  the  legend  "postage  stamps," 
and  bought  one.  Then  he  affixed  it  to  the  letter  and  went 
back  to  the  clerk  he  had  at  first  addressed. 

That  individual  was  checking  postal  orders.  When 
he  had  reached  the  end  of  the  bundle  he  looked  up. 
"Well?"  he  asked. 

"If  I  post  this  letter  to-night,"  inquired  the  lad, 
"  will  it  get  to  Bolton  to-morrow  morning?" 

"Certainly  it  will." 

"Well,  then,"  replied  the  lad,  "  thou's  a  liar.  It 
won't,  for  it's  going  to  Sheffield."  And  he  withdrew, 
leaving  the  clerk  looking  after  him  in  speechless  amaze- 
ment. I"  H.  PHILLIPS. 


WHEN  you  have  something  to  say  to  a  mule  don't  say 
it  behind  his  back. 


A  TOSS-UP. 
"Say,  mate,  anymore  food  left?" 

"Aye,  aye!  captain;  one  biscuit  yet  that  your  wife  made." 
"  Well,  mate,  let's  go  odd  or  even  to  see  who's  got  to  eat  it." 

The  Plumber  and  the  Milliner. 

TT  WAS  a  few  days  before  Easter,  and  the  millinery- 
■*■  store  was  crowded  with  customers  as  a  roughly- 
dressed,  middle-aged  man  entered  the  place  and  inquired 
for  the  proprietor. 

"  What  is  it  you  wish  ?  "  asked  the  busy  milliner,  who 
had  been  brought  down  three  flights  of  stairs  to  see  the 
man  who  wore  the  look  of  mystification  on  his  face. 

"Why,  ma'am,"  he  said  as 
he  awkwardly  removed  his  cap 
and  fingered  it  nervously,  "'  I  jest 
wanted  to  ask  ye  a  few  questions. 
Is  it  true  that  some  of  them  little 
hats  in  the  winder  out  there  are  as 
much  as  $ioo?" 

"Yes;  the  price-marks  are 
written  plainly  enough. " 

"My!  but  jest  to  think  of  it!" 
he  continued  in  tones  of  astonish- 
ment. "  Them's  the  highest-priced 
ones,  thcmgh,  I  suppose,  ma'am?" 

"No;  we  have  higher-priced 
ones  than  those  in  the  window." 

"  Is  it  possible,  ma'am  ?  More 
than$ioo?" 

"  Certainly.  That  bonnet  you 
see  up  there  is  $250,  and  the  one 
over  there  is  $300.  But  please 
state  yoiu:  business,  as  we  are 
very  busy  to-day. " 

"Why,  I  ain't  exactly  in  to 
buy  anything,  ma'am.  I  saw 
your  prices,  and,  bein'  a  pretty 
good  one  myself  to  charge,  I 
thought  we  might  talk  a  little 
about  it.  But  you  got  me  beat 
all  to" 

"State  your  business  at  once, 
sir!"  angrily  interrupted  the 
milliner. 

"I'm — I'm  a  plumber,  and  ye 


needn't  fly  off   the   handle,   ma'am,   for    we   are   jest 
about  in  the  same  line,  and"^ — — 

But  the  woman  ttu^ned  on  her  heel  and  left  him,  and 
he  finally  shufBed  out  of  the  store  to  look  in  the  window 
again  with  a  look  of  great  admiration  on  his  face.       a.b.l. 

Helpful  Suggestions. 

K>T  CAN'T  decide,"  she  said  to  the  milliner.     "I  just 
-''■     don't    know  what  to   do   about   a    hat.     I'm  of 
two  minds  about  it. " 

"Then  take  two  hats,"  suggested  the  milliner,  "and 
please  both  minds." 

No  Attention  to  Her  Now. 

'^"V7"0U  know  Smith  used  to  pay  marked  attention  to 
■*■      Miss    Jones.    Well,    he    has    ceased    paying 

attention  to  her." 
"How's  that?" 
"They're  married." 

Progress. 

"DLACKSMITHS  forge  ahead. 
■'^       Money-lenders  advance  daily. 

Real-estate  men  gain  ground. 

Gamblers  get  the  upper  hand. 

Tailors  press  forward. 

Feminine  Wiles. 

Stella — "  I  always  get  to  the  theatre  last,  so  as  to  be 
talked  about. " 

Bella — "  And  I  always  get  to  the  club  first,  so  as  not  tc 
be  talked  about." 

n-'TVID  you  have  a  good  time  at  the  zoo?" 
^     "  Beastly. " 


ALL  HANDS; 
Or,  his  first  experience  with  the  manicuriit. 


IT  CLOUDED  HIS  JOY. 
Mr.  Dinks — '*  De  Close  is  surlier  than  ever  since  he  came  back  from  his  vacation.  " 
Mrs,  Dinks — **  Yes.     He  has  just  learned  of  a  place  where  he  might  have  gone  and  saved  four  dollars.  " 


I 


Love  and  Honey-bees. 


OWNED  a  little  bee-farm  once 
That  made  a  lot  of  honey. 

And  helped  me  some, 

Because,  by  gum ! 
Them  bees  waxed  into  money. 

And  I  was  lovin'  Mary  Brown, 
That  was  my  nearest  neighbor, 
Fer  Mary's  smiles 
And  cunnin'  wiles 
Took  off  the  curse  of  labor. 


She  was  the  sweetest  girl  on  earth, 
And  every  time  I'd  meet  her, 
I  didn't  see 
How  it  could  be. 
But  somehow  she  was  sweeter. 


And  all  the  time  I  kep'  right  at 
Them  bees  to  make  more  honey; 
Fer  Mary  said 
We  shore  would  wed 
When  I  had  lots  of  money. 

But  after  while  she  moved  out  west. 
And  I  lost  farm  and  fairy ; 

Fer,  if  you  please. 

Them  goldern  bees 
Went  huntin'  after  Mary! 

It  broke  me  up  as  fine  as  snuff ; 
But  still  I  say,  and  mean  it, 

That  them  bees  showed 

They  shorely  knowed 
A  sweet  thing  when  they  seen  it.  w.  j.  lamfton. 


BRiaAblER   SPURHARD 


I1.I.CSTRATED   Br   J.    M.    FiuiGG, 


How  the  Brigadier  Invaded  St.   Helena. 


F  the  petit  corporal  could  only 
have  postponed  Waterloo  about 
three  generations,  my  children, 
how  different  it  would  all  have 
been.  He  would  have  had  plenty 
of  American  newspaper  corre- 
spondents on  the  field  to  point 
out  his  mistakes.  In  case  of 
defeat  he  could  have  been  res- 
cued by  a  member  of  the  Paris 
automobile  club,  or  by  Santos- 
Dumont  in  one  of  his  air-ships. 
As  for  the  English,  they  would 
have  had  Mr.  Kipling  there  to 
write  something  like  this  : 

I've  gone  against    old    Fuzzy- 
Wuzz, 
And  I've  been  shot  up  by  Piet, 
But  Frenchy,  when  'e's  fightin'  mad, 
'S  a  dam  sight  worse  to  beat. 

(Copyright  by  R K .     All  rights  reserved  in 

England,  the  United  States,  and  Vermont.) 

But,  mon  Dieu  !  it  was  not  to  be.  Waterloo 
was  fought  before  Richard  Harding  Davis  ever 
thought  of  being  a  war  correspondent,  and  be- 
fore there  were  any  embalmed-beef  scandals  or 
other  things  to  talk  about  besides  the  actual 
business  of  fighting. 

And  Napoleon  !  ah,  I  see  him  now  as  he 
appeared  when  I  crossed  over  to  .St.  Helena  in 
a  steam-launch  and  tried  to  get  him  to  escape 
with  me. 

"Why  should  I  leave  this  place,  my  go-jd 
Spurhard  ?"  he  said  to  me.  "  My  board  is  paid 
in  advance,  and  I  have  nothing  to  worry  about." 

"  But  come  with  me  and  we  will  make  you 
emperor  of  France,"  I  pleaded. 


"  'YOU  MIGHT  SEND  ME  A  COUPLE  OF  PAPERS  WITH  THE  BASEBALL  SCORES.' 


THE  (ADVENTURES   OF  'BRIGADIER  SPURHARD. 


"Nay,  nay.  I  will  no  sooner  get  my  face  on  a 
new  issue  of  postage-stamps  than  somebody  will  be 
plotting  to  slip  a  toadstool  among  my  truffles  at 
dinner." 

"  Well,  come  to  America  with  me  and  we  will  force 
them  to  make  you  president." 

"And  have  the  opposition  papers  walking  all  over 
my  frame,  nomatter  what  course  I  take  !  Non,  non, 
good  Spurhatd  ;  think  of  the  horror  of  it  if  I  were 
ever  compelled  to  spend  a  summer  in  Washington  1" 

I  wept  and   pleaded,   but   in   vain.      I   offered   to 


make  him  the  regent  of  Timbuctoo  or  the  boss  of 
South  American  revolutionists,  but  to  each  proposi- 
tion he  turned  a  deaf  ear.  Then  the  whistle  of  the 
steam-launch  told  me  that  the  guard  was  coming  and 
I  bade  my  emperor  farewell. 

"Good-bye,  my  dear  Spurhard,"  he  said  as  he 
wrung  my  hand  at  parting.  "You  might  send  me  a 
few  papers  with  the  baseball  scores,  but  I  care  for 
nothing  else.  Try  to  keep  the  historical  novelists 
from  getting  at  me  until  I  am  dead." 

And  thus  it  was  that  I  concluded  my  adventure. 


'  I   BEGAN    DIGGING   IN   THE   ROAD   WITH   MY   SABRE. 


How  the  Brigadier  Saved  the  Little  Corporal's  Army  on  the  March  from  Moscow. 


^OU  have  read  in  Guffey's  first  read- 
er, my  children,  about  the  march 
from  Moscow.  Well,  it  was  all 
true,  that  march,  and  more,  too. 
Sacre  bleu  !  but  the  cold-weather 
stories  of  that  year  are  no  josh. 
If  the  ice  trust  could  have  got 
in  on  the  ground  floor  that  winter 
in  Russia,  mes  enfants,  it  could 
have  stored  enough  to  have  lasted 
a  century.  But  we  poor  soldiers 
of  the  legion  were  not  thinking  uf  the  ice  trust  on 
that  weary  march.      Not  only  were  we  suffering  from 


the  intense  cold,  but  the  Cossack  detachment  of 
Buflalo  Bill's  rough  riders  of  the  world  hung  like  a 
cloud  on  our  rear  column  and  cut  up  all  the  strag- 
glers who  were  not  frozen  too  hard  to  stick  a  spear 
into. 

Well,  one  day,  when  Napoleon  was  in  sore  straits, 
he  sent  for  me.  Whenever  the  little  corporal  was  up 
against  it  he  knew  where  to  turn  as  a  last  resort. 

"Spurhard,"  he  said,  "  mon  cher  Spurhard,  my 
material  for  the  historians  will  end  right  here  unless  you 
can  get  us  out  of  this  cursed  Russian  ice-box.  I  un- 
derstand that  these  bewhiskered  followers  of  Tolstoi 
have  a  large  stock  of  coal  stored  about  sixty  leagues 


THE  cADVENTURES  OF  "BRIGADIER  SPURHARD. 


ahead  of  us.  I  want  you  to  ride  on  with  your  crack 
hussars  and  capture  that  coal.  Comprendre,  my  dear 
Alphonse  ?" 

I  saluted  and,  without  a  word,  turned  and  summoned 
my  men.  It  was  night,  and  we  rode  ahead  of  our  beloved 
army  without  awakening  the  suspicions  of  the  Russians  on 
every  side  of  us.  After  we  had  ridden  a  few  leagues, 
however,  I  began  to  figure  out  the  situation.  I  knew  that 
the  coal  at  Slavitski  would  be  closely  guarded,  and  it 
meant  the  death  of  many  of  my  brave  men  if  I  attempted 
to  seize  it  by  force.  I  knew  that  the  presence  of  a  supply 
of  coal  would  indicate  that  the  Russians  had  mines  near 
at  hand.  This  gave  me  an  inspiration,  and,  leaping  from 
my  horse,  I  began  digging  in  the  road  with  my  sabre, 
commanding  my  fellow-officers  to   do  likewise.     Hardly 


had  we  dug  six  inches  in  the  frozen  ground  before  we  un- 
covered a  vein  of  anthracite  that  would  make  a  Pennsyl- 
vania coal  baron's  mouth  water.  My  brave  fellows  fell  to, 
and  soon  chipped  off  several  tons  with  their  sabres.  When 
Napoleon's  army  came  up  with  us  the  next  day  we  had 
enough  coal  to  warm  everybody,  and  I  had  discovered 
further  that  the  vein  extended  along  the  very  road  over 
which  we  were  marching;  so  all  we  had  to  do  after  that  was 
to  carry  on  a  little  coal-mining  every  time  we  made  camp. 

Thus  it  was  that  I  saved  Napoleon  from  the  worst  frost 
in  his  history,  and  every  night  when  our  anthracite  camp- 
fires  were  burning  we  could  hear  the  baffled  Cossacks 
shouting, 

"  Curseovitch  Brigadier  Spurhard,  who  discovered  our 
secretski  !" 


.*'■ 


'  TO   SET   A   FUSE   AND   TOUCH   A   MATCH   TO   IT. 


How  the  Brigadier  Breached  a  City  Wall  and  Shamed  an  Artillery  Company. 


?OU  remember  about  the  siege  of  Sara- 
gossa,  my  children  ?  Well,  the  histori- 
ans have  done  scant  justice  to  that  siege. 
They  have  not  said  a  word  about  how  I 
lifted  it,  or,  incidentally,  how  I  shamed 
a  whole  company  of  artillery. 

The  siege  was  in  its  tenth  month, 
with  nothing  doing,  when  one  morning, 
as  I  was  riding  at  the  head  of  my  hus- 
sars, a  number  of  artillery  officers  gave  us  what  is  known 
as  the  hoarse  hoot  of  derision. 

"  Look  at  the  dinky  tin  soldier  in  front  !"    called  out  a 
burly  artilleryman.     "  Ain't  he  a  regular  matinee  idol  ?" 


This  made  me  furious,  and  I  was  about  to  draw  and 
attack  the  whole  company  of  officers  when  a  courier 
rushed  up  and  handed  me  a  secret  message  summoning 
me  to  headquarters.  I  found  that  the  siege  was  to  be 
called  off  unless  they  could  find  some  way  of  blowing  a 
hole  in  the  city  wall,  which  the  artillery  had  so  far  been 
unable  to  do.  Some  great  explosion  from  the  inside  was 
needed,  and  I  was  selected  to  see  if  some  means  could  not 
be  found  to  blow  the  wall  outward. 

Well,  children,  I  donned  a  bath-robe  and  took  off  my 
spurs,  making  my  disguise  complete.  I  figured  that  I 
would  be  taken  for  a  bicycle-rider  just  going  back  to  train- 
ing-quarters after  a  spin  on  the  city  wall.     Once  inside  the 


THE  c4DVENTURES   OF  BRIGADIER  SPURHARD. 


^ 


city  I  found  just  the  place  for  which  I  had  been  searching. 
It  was  a  fireworks  manufactorj'  in  the  Chinese  quarter  of 
the  town.  Here  the  Chinese  residents  were  accustomed  to 
make  fire-crackers  to  be  sent  to  America  ever)'  year  for 
Fourth-of-July  celebrations.  Of  late  all  work  had  been 
stopped,  and  there  was  a  vast  quantity  of  powder  in  the 
building  unguarded.  It  was  the  work  of  but  a  few  min- 
utes to  set  a  fuse  and  touch  a  match  to  it.  The  wall  was 
blown  outward,  just  as  I  had  figured,  and  our  triumphant 
army  marched  through  the  breach. 

After  the  city  had  fallen  I  started  out  to  find  the  artil- 
lery officers  who  had  laughed  at  me.  I  found  them  lined 
up  on  the  city  square,  behind  their  great  cannon.  March- 
ing out  in  front  of  the  heaN-y  pieces  of  ordnance  I  drew  my 


sabre  and  saluted.  Then  I  threw  the  weapon  on  the 
ground  and  said  deliberately,  hissing  each  word  through 
my  fierce  mustaches, 

"  Gentlemen,  I  beg  of  you  to  fire  at  me  one  at  a  time, 
and  I  will  catch  the  little  cannon-balls  like  so  many  peas 
and  hurl  them  back  at  your  heads." 

But  to  my  surprise  the  artillery  officers,  of  one  accord, 
leaped  upon  me  with  every  demonstration  of  affection. 

"  Ah,  brave  Spurhard,"  they  cried,  "  you  have  shamed 
us.  Accept  our  apologies,  and  believe  us,  we  can  show 
you  where  they  always  have  some  delicious  absinthe 
on  draught." 

And  thus  it  was,  mes  enfants,  that  I  overthrew  a  city 
and  kept  my  pride  from  being  overthrown. 


AN  EASY  THING. 
Chollv — "  Your  father  asked  me  if  I  could  support  you  in  the  style  to  which  you  ate  accustomed." 
Ethel—"  And  what  did  you  tell  him?" 
Cholly — "\\Tiy,  I  told  him  I  certainly  could  as  long  as  you  kept  your  present  weight" 


•l-riE  world   is  growing 
"        wondrous  wise, 
Or  so  they  say  ; 
And  now   they  catch  but 
stupid  folk 
On  All  Fools'  Day, 


^ 


And  Love  is  folly,  blind 
and  rash — 
The  wise  keep  cool : 
But,  sweetheart,  I'm  c(m> 
tent  to  be 
An  April  Fool. 


9  O 


A    CONTENTED  FOOL. 


The 


Grass  Widow." 

J^^       FAIL  to  see,"  I  said  to  she, 
"  Your  weeds  for  he  who  died. 
I  Your  vestments  for  a  widow 

L  Seem  too  gladsome." 

She    blinked     at    me,     then 

winked  at  me, 
As  coyly  she  replied, 
"  I'm  not  a  weedy  widow, 
But  a  grass  one." 


rvPPORTUNITY  knocks 
once  at  every  man's  door 
— and  it  doesn't  knock  like 
a  hotel  porter  waking  you 
up  for  the  six-thirty  train. 


A  Scriptural  Chiding. 

THERE  dwells  in  Evanston,  Illinois,  a  young  woman 
who  takes  vocal  lessons  that  have  been  in  the  "  la-la  '' 
stage  so  long  that  she  is  even  less  enamored  ol  the  sound 
of  her  own  voice  in  such  senseless  babbling  than  when 
she  began  it  some  months  since.  Her  daily  practice  is 
the  bane  of  her  existence.  She  yearns  to  go  somewhither 
outside  the  range  of  her  fellow-creatures'  hearing  when- 
ever the  "  la-la  "  time  of  day  arrives.  The  other  day  she 
was  engaged  in  this  unpleasant  (to  her)  occupation,  when 
she  reverted  idly  to  a  habit  long  since  acquired, 
and  opened  at  random  a  Bible  that  lay  beneath 
her  hand  on  the  table  in  her  room. 

Placing  her  thumb  at  the  paragraph  first  dis- 
covered, she  glanced  down  to  see  what  she  had 
thus  chosen,  and  read  the  filth  verse  of  the  sixth 
chapter  of  the  book  of  Job,  which  runs  as  follows  : 

"  Doth  the  wild  ass  bray  when  he  hath  grass  ? 
or  lowelh  the  ox  over  his  fodder  ?"  Her  prac- 
tice stopped  instantly,  cutting  a  vigorous  "  la  " 
in  two. 

And  now  it  is  going  to  be  hard  work  to  con- 
vince that  devout  young  person  that  she  has  not 
been  providentially  ordered  to  quit  taking  voice 
lessons. 

The  Boston  Baby. 

THE  Boston  baby  was  just  beginning  to  talk, 
and  many  of  her  remarks  were  unintelligible. 
Finally  even  her  mother  failed  to  comprehend  and 
said,  "  I  do  not  understand  you,  darling."  Scorn- 
fully, but  this  time  quite  distinctly,  the  baby  asked, 
"  Have  you  no  glossary,  mother  ?" 

Born  Too  Soon. 

/-EORGE   WASHINGTON,    you   know   'tis   said, 
^     Could  never  tell  a  lie. 
To  you  I'll  give  a  liitle  tip 
And  tell  the  reason  why. 

'Twas  'cause  he  ran  for  President 

Before  so  many  tricks 

Had  been  injected  into  all 

Our  brands  of  politics. 


THE   smell    of  the   average    disinfectant   does 
much  to  reconcile  us  to  a  prospect  of  taking 
the  disease  it  is  meant  to  prevent. 


She- 

a  wife  ?' 

He— 


Coming  It  on  Father. 

Mr.  Washington^"  George,  some  one  has 
cut  down  my  favorite  cherry-tree.  Be  a  man, 
now,  and  say,  '  I  did  it  with  my  little  hatchet."  " 

Little  George — "  All  right,  father.  You 
did  it  with  your  little  hatchet." 

Becoming  Fashionable. 

First  hobo — "  I  accerdently  discovered  dat 
last  month  Handout  Hank  worked  fer  four  hull 
days  fer  a  farmer,  sawin'  wood." 

Second  hobo — ' '  De  traitor !  Wot  defense  did 
he  offer  as  ter  why  he  shouldn't  be  ostercized  ?" 

First  hobo  —  "  He  swore  he  wuz  cursed  wid 
a  dual  personality." 

The  Humorist's  Proposal. 

You  ask  me  to  marrj'  you,  but  can  you  support 


I  can.     While   I'm   not   rich,  I  make  money  out 
of  my  writings." 

She — "  What  do  you  write  ?" 

He—''  Oh,  humorous  stuff — skits,  jokes  and  the  like." 

She — "  And  you  ask  me  to  marry  you  ?" 

7%— "Yes." 

She—"  I  admit,  that's  a  good  joke  !" 


^r 


i^^^^i^V  *.  -C 


THE  UNIVERSAL  CHALLENGER. 
Miss  Engaged — "  Put  up  your  dukes." 


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My  New  I^anguag'e 


Written  by  F.  HOPKINSON  SMITH  ^  ^ 

♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦4 


Illustrated  by  "ZIM" 

►♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦■ 


I 


OME  years  ago  I  determined 
on  a  sketching  tour  through 
Spain  and  Portugal.  I 
wanted  old  church  walls 
fringed  with  pomegranates, 
strings  of  mules  laden  with 
skins  of  wine,  seiioritas 
with  red-heeled  slippers, 
and  the  like. 

Sam,  my  traveling  com- 
panion, said  he  didn't  know 
a  word  of  the  language, 
and  I  knew  that  we  couldn't 
do  anything  without  it  ; 
better  stay  at  home.  Sam 
is  not  my  servant,  remem- 
ber, but  my  chum.  He's 
not  an  artist,  but  a  "  buggist  "  with  a  leanmg  toward 
butterflies.  He's  got  another  name — two  of  them — 
the  last  with  three  syllables,  but  it  is  unnecessary  to 
mention  them  here.  And  then  again,  Sam  wouldn't 
like  it.  So  I  sent  for  old  Morales — Professor  Ceballos 
Morales,  teacher  of  modern  languages — Italian,  Ger- 
man, French  and  Spanish.  I  speak  the  first  three  like 
a    native — of  New    York. 

When  Morales  presented  himself  he  proved  to  be 
a  sun-dried  Hidalgo,  with  a  wrinkled,  saddle-colored 
skin,  a  broken  assortment  of  teeth — three  gone — a 
sharp  nose,  two  quick,  restless  eyes,  a  brown  wig  and 
a  pair  of  pointed  mustachios. 

The  professor  bowed  as  low  as  Sancho  would 
have  done  to  Don  Quixote,  rested  his  hooked  cane 
against  my  easel,  laid  his  hat  on  the  floor,  drew  off  a 
pair  of  green-kid  gloves  and  said  that  in  "  four  week — 
sees  at  te  mostest  " — he  could  teach  me  "te  lang- 
widge."  Not,  of  course,  to  "hablar"  with  "per- 
fectione,"  but  so  that  I  could  travel  through  the  land 
of  his  birth  with  ease  and  safety. 
So  we  started  in. 

It  was  June,  cool,  lovely,  leafy  June,  everywhere 
except  under  the  glass  of  my  sky-light.  There  it  was 
as  hot  as  the  hinges  of  Hades.  But  I  kept  at  it.  I 
had  verbs  with  my  coffee,  nouns  with  my  luncheon, 
and  short  sentences  with  my  dinner.  Wherever  I 
went  I  carried  a  grammar  in  my  outside  pocket.  This 
I  studied  on  street  corners  during  the  day  and  under 
the  gas-lights  at  night  while  waiting  for  trolleys  and 
horse-cars. 


By  the  end  of  the  second  week  I  could  ask  for  the 
green  umbrella  of  my  grandfather  and  the  new  hat  of 
my  aunt.  By  the  end  of  the  fourth  week  the  pro- 
fessor could  say  to  me,  "  It  is  not  the  bird  that  flies 
but  the  camel  that  walks,"  and  I  understood  him  ! — 
got  the  camel  right  every  time. 

This  knowledge  brought  a  rapture  with  it  to  which, 
up  to  that  moment,  I  had  been  a  stranger. 

By  the  end  of  the  sixth  week — the  week  I  sailed — 
I  was  discharged  cured.  Even  the  professor  admitted 
it,  and  would  stand  on  the  stairs  outside  my  studio 
door  and  wave  me  adios  and  wish  me  buenos  dias 
with  the  same  shrug  of  his  shoulders  and  upward 
chicken-drinking  glance  of  the  eye  that  he  would  have 
given  any  other  caballero  of  his  acquaintance. 

Under  the  quickening  impulse  of  these  last  subtle 
touches  I  began  to  be  on  good  terms  with  myself. 
No  sefiorita  would  turn  away  from  me  now  with  a 
blank  stare ;  no  hotel-keeper  would  fleece  me  out  of 
my  last  peseta  ;  no  bull-fighter  would  pass  me  by  un- 
noticed. A  twist  to  my  mustache,  a  dash  of  garlic  in 
my  salad,  and  one  word  of  this  pure,  unadulterated 
Castilian  accent  which  I  had  just  acquired,  and  I 
would  be  recognized  as  one  of  them. 

But  my  greatest  triumph  would  be  over  Sam.     Sam 


"MORALES  SAID  HE  COULD  TEACH  ME  '  TE  LANGWIDGE."* 


MY     NEW     LANGUAGE 


knew  German,  French  and  some  English — not  much 
that  was  pure,  but  enough.  He  could  get  a  wiener- 
schnitzel  in  any  caf(§  in  Munich,  and  could  ask  his 
way  back  to  his  hotel  across  the  Seine  without  having 
to  go  round  by  the  Arc  de  Triomphe,  but  he  would 
be  stranded  and  dead  broke  when  it  came  to  pure 
Castilian.  The  certainty,  therefore,  of  his  being  de- 
pendent on  me  for  his  bare  meat  and  shelter  while  in 
sunny  Spain  was  to  be  the  supremest  part  of  the  joy 
of  his  companionship. 

On  the  way  across  the  ocean  I  thumbed  the  gram- 
mar every  hour  of  the  day  and  held  private  lessons 
with  myself,  conjugating  verbs  and  arranging  conver- 
sations with  imaginary  hotel-keepers  and  travelers.  I 
was  afraid  I  would  lose  my  grip  on  what  I  had  if  I 
slackened  my  hold  a  single  hour.  Sam  said  in  his 
choicest  English  "that  if  I  didn't  stop  working  my 
mouth  that  way,  a-chewin'  Spanish,  they'd  take  me 
for  a  missionary  mumblin'  aves  for  my  sins. "  I  quote 
this  to  show  some  of  the  things  I  have  to  put  up  with 
in  Sam. 

When  we  landed,  took  train  and  stopped  at  Hen- 
daye — the  last  station  in  France — I  became  more  bold. 
I  told  Sam — not  offensively,  but  with  a  sense  of  the 
importance  of  the  announcement — that  hereafter  I 
should  confine  myself  entirely  to  the  language  of  the 
country.  This,  I  added,  was  a  courtesy  I  owed  the 
inhabitants. 

In  proof  of  this  resolution  I  began  on  the  first 
native  I  met — a  kiln-dried  caballero  this  time — seated 
opposite  me  in  the  compartment.  He  was  years 
younger  than  the  professor,  and  had  a  cigarette  glued 
to  his  lower  lip,  which  wabbled  as  he  talked,  but 
never  lost  its  hold.  He  listened  attentively  and 
courteously   for  the  first  half-hour,   answering  me  in 

such    mono- 
syllables    as 

"  Cierto,  " 

"Bueno,"  "es 

Verdad,"    etc. 

— even     Sam 

understood 

these  —  and 

then  whispered 

to    Sam    in 

French,  so  this 

beast  of  achum 

told  me  after- 
ward,    ' '  Does 

the     amiable 

Hidalgo  speak 

any  other  lan- 

guage     but 

Spanish  ?" 


I  saw  Sam  double  up,  cram  his  pudgy  fist  into  his 
mouth  and  catch  his  breath,  but  we  were  nearing  the 
frontier,  and  I  was  too  intent  on  framing  my  first  sen- 
tence on  Spanish  soil  to  give  him  any  attention.  The 
first  thing  needed  was  a  porter,  as  our  traps  must  be 
taken  from  the  train  and  carried  to  the  custom-house. 
So  I  ran  my  finger  down  the  p's  of  my  dictionary, 
found  the  word  and  instantly  constructed  the  sentence. 

"Cargador  (porter),  deseo  (I  wish)  un  hombre  (a 
man)  tomar  (to  take)  mis  cosas  (my  things)." 

Then  I  fired  it  point  blank  at  a  fellow  in  a  blue 
blouse. 

On  the  blouse's  second  trip  I  blazed  away  again, 
modulating  the  accent  this  time,  beginning  "Car- 
gador" in  a  careless,  even  slightly  familiar  way,  as  if  I 
were  resuming  a  conversation  in  which  I  had  forgotten 
to  mention  my  small  baggage  then  on  the  platform 
before  me  where  the  trainman  had  dumped  it.  No 
response — not  even  a  side  glance. 

Sam  winked  at  the  caballero  with  the  cigarette — 
everybody  had  to  get  out  at  the  frontier — and  passed 
his  hand  over  his  face.  I  turned  my  back,  opened 
my  phrase-book,  went  over  all  the  words,  satisfied 
myself  that  they  were  not  only  correct  Spanish  but 
elegant  Castilian,  waited  for  the  third  trip  of  the 
blouse,  and  roared  out  in  his  ear, 

"Cargador,  deseo  un  hombre  tomar  mis  cosas." 

The  man  stopped,  tilted  his  truck,  pushed  his  cap 
back  from  his  forehead,  and  said,  in  a  rich  north-of- 
Ireland  brogue,  ' '  I  hear  yez  ;  if  ye'll  howld  that  clack 
o'  yours  I'll  sind  a  man  ter  take  yer  thraps. " 

When  Sam  got  through  laughing  I  walked  to  the 
edge  of  the  platform,  took  the  dictionary  and  phrase- 
book  from  my  inside  pocket,  and  with  the  suoremest 
satisfaction  dropped  them  into  the  ditch. 


"THE   MAN    STOPPED   AND   SAID,    IN    A    RICH   NORTH-OF-IRELAND   BROGUE,    '  I  HEAR  YEZ  : 
IF  ye'll   howld   THAT   CLACK   o'    YOURS    I'LL   SIND   A    MAN   TER   TAKE   YER   THRAPS.'   ' 


^0/mfm 


Commercial  Joy. 

AM  as  happy  as  the  jay 
That  flits  from  tree  to  tree. 
I  lightly  trip 
And  gayly  skip 
The  tra-la-la-la-lee. 

For  business  is  on  the  boom, 
Despite      each      "if"     and 
"but"— 
I  whirl  and  twist 
Each  hand  and  wrist, 
As  set  forth  in  the  cut. 

^.^;=i      I  kick  my  slippers  in  the  air 

And  wildly  whirl  and  whizz — 

Oh,  see  me  spin 

And  caper  in 
The  maelstrom  made  of  biz. 


^ 


'W 


On  View  on  Mondays. 

fH AT  I  never  could  understand,"  said  the  dense  man, 
is  why  the  women  spend  such  fabulous  sums  for 
this  here  lingerie,  when  they  never  display  it,  of  course. 
Now,  if  they    would   put    some    of    that  dainty    lace    and 

ribbon  on  their  dresses  or  hats  " ■ 

"  You  forget,"  said  the  other  man,  who  also  had  been 
looking  into  the  show-window  ;  "  you  forget  that  the  neigh- 
bors always  rubber  at  the  washing  when  it  is  hung  out." 


Pennibs — "  Habit  really  becomes  a  second  nature  to 
a  man." 

Spacer — "  I  should  say  so.  Why,  when  my  friend  Tall- 
brow,  the  poet,  proposed  to  his  best  girl  by  mail  he  in- 
closed return  postage  in  case  his  offer  should  be  rejected." 


DISTURBING   THE   PIECE. 

Might  Be  Worse. 

Mrs,  Parvenu — "  And  then  the  whole  awful  story  got 
into  the  papers." 

Mrs.  Beenthere — "Oh,  well,  matters  might  be  still 
worse.     It  might  have  been  dramatized." 


NOT   CURIOUS. 

Frayed  Fergeson — "  Now,  what  do  yer  s'pose  dat  dog  's  showin'  his  teeth  fer?" 
Yale-graduate  Gus — "  He  may  be  actuated  by  vanity,  but  I  wouldn't  go  into  the  yard  to  find  out.' 


IN  WYOMING. 
Eastern  sportsman—"  Is  there  any  danger  of  a  man  getting  shot  out  here  by  mistake  for  a  deer?" 
Bronco  Bill—"  Why,  tenderfoot,  how  you  talk  !     No.     Who  ever  heerd  of  a  deer  gettin'  drunk  an'  sassy 
in  a  saloon  ?" 


Reverend  Si  Slopper's 
Bulletin. 

DAR  will  be  a  quiltin'  pahty 
At  Miss  Yokum's  Mond'y 
niglit 
Fo'  terstahtde  'scripshun  papah 
Fo'  de  pastah's  yeahly  fight. 

Doan'  fo'git  de  weekly  meetin' 
Ob  de  amen-co'iiah  set ; 

Reckomembah  dat  yo'r  pastah 
Got  ter  rise  dat  mawgedge 
debt. 

Raffle-pahty  git  togeddah 

Eb'ry    Choosd'y    night     at 
eight ; 

Any  offerin's  dat  yo'  min'  ter 
May  be  left  at  pastah's  gate. 

Convu'ts  cum  on  We'n'sd'y 
ebenin' 

Wid  deir  weekly  sacerfice  ; 
'Membah  dat  de  ])astah  need  it 

When  he  cut  de  debil's  ice. 

Thu'sd'y  night  de  pickaninnies 
Christen'd  by  deir  rightful 
names. 
Dar  should    be   sum  conterbu- 
shuns 
Fo'     ^e    pastah's    chillun's 
games. 

Frid'y  night  de  ole  folk  gaddah 

Fo'  ter  'range  'bout  buyin* 

wood 

Fo'  de  chu'ch   an'   fo'   de  pah- 

s'nage 

An'  de  pastah's  gen'ral  good. 

Sat'd'y  night  de  chu'ch  choir 
'sembles — 
Tune  yo'r  voice  ter  sing  de 
praise 
When  de  ushers  Sund'y  mawnin' 
Shoves  de  plates  ter  maik  a 
raise. 


CLOSE   TO   THE    IDEAL. 
Pat — "  Casey  's  the  model  husband.     He  thinks  ivirything  av  his  woife." 
Mike — "  He  do?" 
Pat — "  He  do.     Iviry  toime  he  blacks  her  eye  he  goes  out  an'  gits  a  sirloin  shteak  to  put  on  i 


MRvS.  McGIFFERTY'iS 

Gas  Bill 


Written  by  R.  K.  MUNKITTRICK 


Illustrated  by  J.  H.  SMITH 


^ 
^ 

^ 
^ 
^ 
^ 


F  A  conservative  critic  were  asked  what  kind 
of  a  woman  Mrs.  McGifferty  is,  he  would 
not  describe  her  as  a  blonde  or  a  brunette  ; 
or  as  being  tall  and  willowy,  or  short  and 
thickset ;  he  would  simply  reply  by  describ- 
ing her  as  an  uneclipsed  champion  of 
domestic  economy. 

The  other  day  she  decided  to  indulge  in 
the  long-dreamed-of  luxury  of  a  gas-stove, 
the  price  of  which  was  ten  dollars. 

"  It's  an  outrageous  price,"  she   said   to 

her  husband,  "  but  I'll  economize  and  save 

the  price  of  the  stove  in  two  months.     We'll 

only  eat  things  that  can  be  fried  in  a  couple 

of    minutes  ;     and     we'll    buy    ready-made 

bread,  and  that  will  save  on  the  price  of  the 

baking.     I'll  save  gas    at    every  point,  if  I 

have  to  resort  to  the  forty-nine-cent  oil-stove 

to  do  it,  and  then  we'll  have  the  beautiful 

gas-range  for  next  to  nothing." 

Mr.  McGifferty,  realizing  that   there  are  two   kinds  of 

economy — the    real  kind   and   woman's — said   nothing   in 

reply,  but  did  some  high-grade,  long-distance  thinking. 

That  afternoon  Mrs.  McGifferty  went  to  the  office  ot 
the  gas  company  to  buy  the  range.  When  she  had  made 
her  selection,  the  clerk  obligingly  said, 

"We  can  put  this  right  in  this  afternoon,  and  you  can 
cook  to-night's  dinner  on  it." 

"  I  don't  want  it  put  in  until  the  day  after  to-mor- 
row," replied  Mrs.  McGifferty. 

This    declaration    astonished  the 
clerk. 

"  This    is     the     thirtieth    of    the 
month,"   continued   Mrs.    McGifferty 
in    an    explanatory    tone, 
"  and  if  you  put  it  in  to-day 
you'll  send  me  the  bill  the 
day   after  to-morrow.     But 
if  you  put  it  in  the  day  after 
to-morrow  you  cannot  send 
the  bill  until  the  first  of  the 
following  month."    And  the 
champion  economist  smiled 
all  over  in  her  wild,  ineffable  glee. 
The  range   was  finally  put  in 
and  tested  and  explained  at  great 
length,  that  they  might  know  how 


to  run  it.  And  the  battle  of  economy  began  in  earnest. 
The  forty-nine-cent  oil-stove  was  brought  out,  and  several 
pounds  of  candles  were  purchased. 

"  It  is  warm  enough  to  sit  on  the  piazza,"  said  Mrs. 
McGifferty,  "  and  that  will  save  on  the  candles  and  make 
them  go  further;  and  the  arc-light  across  the  way  will  be 
as  good  as  the  moon,  and  we  can  retire  by  its  opalescent 
beams.  Subtract  the  cost  of  this  way  of  lighting  and 
cooking  from  the  amount  of  the  average  gas  bill,  and  you 
will  see  how  soon  we'll  save  the  price  of  the  stove  and  be 
able  to  buy  hats  and  gowns.  I  tell  you  I'm  a  manager," 
said  Mrs.  McGifferty  with  great  swelling  pride. 

"  I  suppose  we  shall  be  toasting  bread  over  the  lamp 
chimney  and  frying  eggs  over  the  candles  before  long," 
said  Mr.  McGifferty. 

"  And  won't  that  be  right,  if  we  can  cut  down  the  gas 
bill  by  so  doing  ?  We  shall  have  a  ten-dollar  bill  for  the 
range  next  month,  and  if  we  go  on  burning  gas  all  the 
time  it  will  be  five  more." 

"  If  the  gas  range  will  cut  our  gas  bill  down  to 
nothing,"  said  Mr.  McGifferty,  "  I  air.  certainly  very  glad 
that  we  have  added  it  to  our  effects.  I  suppose  its  heat- 
is  so  intense  that  you  can  give  an  egg  an  ordinary  four- 
minute  boil  in  a  minute  and 
a  half.  I  suppose  you  will  boil 
about  fifty  at  a  time  until  they 
are  as  hard  as  door-knobs, 
and  then  make  a  couple  of 
quarts  of  tea  at  a  time,  and 
then  we  shall  have  cold  break- 
fasts for  a  week  ahead,  which 
is  just  the  thing  for  this  kind 
of  weather.  I  suppose  the  best 
way  to  save  gas  is  not  to  use 
it,  and  yet  it  seems  a  paradox 
of  economy  to  say  that  gas- 
stoves  were  made  to  save  and 
not  to  consume  gas.  If  such 
is  the  case,  it  might  argue  that 
if  one  stove  will  save  five  dol- 
lars a  month,  six  stoves  will  or 
should  save  thirty  dollars  a 
month.  This  means  that  the 
more  stoves  one  has  the  more 
money  one  will  save.  Now, 
Mc  GiFFERTv  WAS  BECOM-  ^^  ^  '""'^od  of  raising  a  mort- 
iNG  WEARY."  gage  on  the  fly" 


=MRS.    MCGIFFERTY'S    GAS    BILL= 


"  Are  you  making  fun  of  me  ?"  demanded  Mrs.  McGif- 
ferty  in  measured  tones,  while  her  nostrils  dilated  like  those 
of  a  race-horse  leading  the  way  down  the  home-stretch. 

"  Not  at  all,"  replied  Mr.  McGifFerty;  "  I  was  only  mak- 
ing a  few  obvious  remarks  ;  and  let  me  say  that  I  only  trust 
that  your  economic  zeal  may  be  fully  and  justly  realized." 

All  that  month  Mrs.  McGifferty  scarcely  lighted  the 
gas-range ;  and  she  was  equally  careful  with  the  illu- 
minating jets,  as  she  was  on  her  mettle  to  keep  the  gas  bill 
down  to  a  ridiculously  low  figure.  She  bought  great 
quantities  of  fruit  for  breakfast  and  sturgeon  for  luncheon. 
In  fact,  she  had  apples  instead  of  potatoes,  and  made  it  a 
point  to  eat  as  much  uncooked  food  as  possible.  Mr. 
McGifferty  was  becoming  weary  of  cheese  and  Bologna 
sausage,  and  canned  beans  and  other  ready-cooked  foods, 
and  he  was  very  glad  when  the  month  came  to  an  end. 

About  that  time  the  gas  man  came  to  look  into  the 
condition  and  standing  of  the  metre.  When  he  came 
up  from  the  cellar  his  face  was  lit  by  a  grin  that  seemed 
to  flow  off  his  features  in  continuous  waves. 

"  You  have  been  economical  this  month,  Mrs. 
McGifferty." 

"  I  have  tried  to  be," 
she  replied  with  a  smile  of 
triumph  ;  "  I  have  certainly 
tried  to  be." 

When  Mr.  McGifferty 
came  home,  later,  he  found 
Mrs.  McGifferty  looking  as 
glum  as  if  her  gas  bill  was 
a  hundred  dollars. 

"  Do  you  know  how 
much  the  gas  bill  is  ?"  she 
asked. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  McGif- 
ferty. 

"  It  is  nothing .'" 

"  I  congratulate  you." 

"  Don't  do  that,"  she 
said  ;   "  don't  do  that." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  I  am  out  all 
the  money   I  spent   for   oil 


and  candles — out  a  gold  dollar  and   a  half.     Besides   all 
I  spent  for  fruit  and  ready-cooked  food  !" 
"  I  don't  understand  you,  my  dear." 
Mrs.   McGifferty   burst  into  tears  and  replied,  as  she 
swayed  wildly  to  and  fro, 

"  When  the  man  said  the  bill  was  nothing  I  thought 
I  was  a  great  economizer  ;    but  when  I  found   out   why, 
I  could  have  cried  my  eyes  out." 
"  Well,  why  was  it  ?" 

"  Because,"  replied  Mrs.  McGifferty,  "  the  man  told 
me  that  the  two  diaphragms  in  the  metre  had  been  per- 
forated, and  that  this  accident  had  rendered  it  impossible 
for  the  metre  to  register.  So  you  see  I  spent  money  on 
oil  and  candles  and  ready-cooked  food,  when  I  might  have 
burned  a  thousand  feet  of  gas  a  day  for  nothing,  for  the 
man  says  no  bill  can  be  rendered.  Isn't  it  perfectly 
awful !" 

"  Not  at  all,  Mrs.  McGifferty  ;  not  at  all !  it  is  very  fine. 

But  it  would  be  finer  still  if  you  had  only  " 

"  If  I  had  only  what  ?"  broke  in  the  poor  woman, 
virtually  bowed  beneath  the  load  of  chagrin  and  sorrow, 
while  she  wrung  her  hands  in  an  ecstasy  of  despair. 

-■'  if  you  had  only  found  out  from  the  metre  man  just 

where 
those  dia- 
phragms 
are  located 
and  if  they 
can  be 
reached  by 
an  ordi- 
nary hat- 
pin." 

And  while 
Mr.  McGif- 
ferty laugh- 
ed Mrs. 
Mc  Gifferty 
sank  into  a 
sea  of  sofa- 

AND  WHILE  MK.  MCGIFFERTY  CUShiOHS, 
LAUGHED  MRS.  .MC  GIFFERTY  SANK  INTO  Jj,  ^  sWOOn 
A   SEA   OF   SOFA-CUSHIONS,    IN    A   SWOON 

OF  ANGUISH."  O'  anguish. 


WHEN    THE    FOLKS     COME    HOME 


I  LIKE  the  time  when  chestnuts  fall  and 
woods  are  russet  brown, 
And  hills  are  wrapped  in  smoky  haze 
beyond  the  litUe  town  ; 
For  then  it's  near  Thanksgiving  time,  when 

hearts  no  longer  roam — 
When  we  kill  the  biggest  turkey,  and  the 
folks  come  home ! 


Full  many  a  watch-fire  ushers  in  the  sweet 

Thanksgiving  eve  ; 
Full  many  a  jest  and  laugh  forbid  that  any 

one  should  grieve  ; 
And  we  sit  in  family  circle  with  those  who 

whiles  did  roam, 
\\Tien  we  kill   the   biggest  turkey  and  the 

folks  come  home ! 


Dear  grandma   in  her  best  lace  cap  and 

grandpa  with  his  cane, 
And  aunts  and   uncles   all   are  here,  and 

pretty  cousin  Jane — 
WTio  smiles  at  me  until  ray  heart  bea's  up 

as  light  as  foam — 
And  I  bless   the  old   reunion  when    the 

folks  come  home  ! 


MARRIAGE   HELPS  SOME. 

*'  Does  Jones  think  he*s  any  better  off  since  he  got  married  ?" 
"  Yes.     He  says  he  has  some  one  to  thread  his  needle  now  when  he  wants  to 
sew  on  a  button." 

One  on  Uncle  George. 

UNCLE  GEORGE  took  great  delight  in  teasing 
Johnny,  but  the  boy  evened  matters  up  a  bit  one 
day. 

"Why,  Uncle  George,"  he  said  as  he  came  into  the 
dinl.ig-room  where  the  old  man  sat  reading  the  morning 
paper,  "  you've  got  the  right  shoe  on  the  left  foot." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  Uncle  George  after 
/  carefully  looking  his  shoes  over. 

"  But  I  say  you  have,"  persisted  the  boy^ 

"  Do  you  mean  to  stand  there,  you  young  jackanapes, 
and  tell  me  I've  got  the 
right   shoe   on    the  left 
foot?" 

"  I  do,  uncle." 

"  Then  you  must  be 
blind  or  crazy.  How 
could  I  get  the  right  shoe 
on  the  left  foot?" 

"But  you  have.  Can't 
you  see  that  you  have, 
uncle?" 

"  Most  certainly 
not!" 

"The  boy  knows  what 
he's  talking  about, ' '  put 
in  Johnny's  father,  who 
was  sitting  close  by. 

"  Oh,  he  does,  eh?" 
snapped  Uncle  George  as 

4 


he  began  to  bristle  up  a  bit.  "  Maybe  you 
think  I'm  wearing  the  right  shoe  on  the  left 
foot?" 

"I  do." 

"  Maybe  you'd  like  to  bet  that  I'ni  wearing 
the  right  shoe  on  the  left  foot?" 

"  Maybe  I  would." 

"  Maybe  you'd  like  to  bet  five  dollars  that 
I'm  wearing  the  right  shoe  on  the  left  foot?" 
and  Uncle  George  reached  for  his  roll. 

"I'll  go  you,  sir,"  said  Johnny's  father, 
while  the  boy  could  hardly  hold  himself. 

"Now,"  said  the  uncle,  when  the  wager 
had  been  duly  made,  "  you  claim  that  I  am 
wearing  the  right  shoe  on  the  left  foot,  don't 
you?" 

"That's  the  claim." 

"  Look  my  feet  over  carefully,  both  of  you, 
and  tell  me  how  in  the  name  of  common  sense 
you  can  say  that  I  have  the  right  shoe  on  the 
left  foot." 

"  You're  easy,  uncle,  "said  the  happy  Johnny. 
"  You  see,  you  have  the  left  shoe  on  the  left 
foot,  of  course;  but  that's  the  right  shoe  to 
have  on  the  left  foot,  isn't  it?  Do  you  see  the 
point?" 

Uncle  George  saw  the  point  after  a  little 
thought,  and  he  is  not  teasing  Johnny  as  much 
as  he  used  to.  In  fact,  he  is  a  bit  uneasy  when 
the  boy  is  around.  a.  b.  lewis. 

A  Clean  Record. 

4(  |kij AGGIE,"  said  the  inexperienced  young  thing  to 
*'*  the  cook,  "  the  biscuits  were  a  sight.  If  you 
can't  do  better  next  time  I  will  have  to  discharge  you." 
"  Ye  will,  will  ye?"  Maggie  retorted.  "  I'll  have  ye 
know,  mum,  that  I've  bin  workin'  out  two  years,  an'  I've 
worked  fer  eighty-nine  of  the  best  families  in  town,  an' 
I  ain't  never  bin  discharged  yet.  I'm  leavin'  this  after- 
noon fer  a  better  place." 


It's  a  wise  cork  that  knows  its  own  pop. 


FORGETFUL. 
Stranger — "  Is  your  wife  in  ?  " 
Pat — *'  Me  owld  womin  be  dead,  sor." 
Stranm — "  Oh,  indeed !     I  didn't  know." 
Pat —    Och  I     Oi  suppose  she  fergot  ter  tell  yez,  she  wor  ihol  forgitful.' 


Rubaiyat  of  a  Mother  of  Twins. 

A  LAS !  that  twins  should  not  at  night  repose  1 
*•    Would   their  tooth-bearing  apertures  but 

close ! 
The  nurse  that  to  my  succor  comes  at  dawn, 
Why  tarry  thus  her  lagging  feet — who  knows  r 

1  sent  my  maid  across  the  lawn  to  quell 
Some  portion  of  that  soul-distracting  yell ! 
And  by  and  by  my  maid  returned  to  say 
Words  that  I  may  not  syllable  nor  spell. 

A  pair  of  yelling  twins  beneath  the  bough  ; 
Bottles  of  milk  fresh  gathered  from  the  cow  ; 
Shrill  lullabies  the  nurse-maid  sings  too  high—' 
E'en  paradise  were  wilderness  enow. 


(( 


Tired  Tommie- 
leave  him  there." 


A  PREDICAMENT. 
"  De  question  is,  would  it  be  safer  to   yank  him  loose  or 


It  Was  Old. 

pONFOUND  it  !"  growls  the  testy 
husband,  "  I  'd  like  to  know  what 
has  become  of  that  bottle  of  whiskey  I 
kept  in  my  wardrobe." 

"  Why,  Henry,"  says  the  patient  wife, 
"  I  heard  you  tell  Mr.  Gooph  that  it  was 
fifteen  years  old  ;  so  when  I  was  collect- 
ing all  our  old  things  for  the  church 
rummage-sale  I  sent  that  along  too." 

The  Worst  Has  Come. 

((  /^WING  to  the  coal  strike,"  said  the 


pirate   captam 
able  to  scuttle  ship." 


'  we  shall  not  be 


D' 


A  Money-making  Family. 

ilHE  Gettits  are  on  the  road  to 
wealth,"  says  the  sage  of  the 
grocery. 

"  I  understood  they  was  doing  right 
well,"  observed  the  grocer. 

"  Yes.  They  had  a  big  wheat-crop, 
and  their  corn  turned  out  twice  as  good 
as  they  expected  ;  the  oldest  daughter 
run  away  with  a  summer  boarder  that 
owns  a  oil-well  in  Texas  ;  the  younger 
daughter  is  engaged  to  a  sickly  million- 
aire ;  the  old  man  was  hit  by  an  automo- 
bile and  gets  accident  insurance  and 
damages  from  the  chauffeur ;  and  now 
they  are  going  to  move  to  the  city,  where 
the  old  lady  will  have  a  chance  to  collide 
with  a  trolley-car  and  make  the  company 
settle." 

Greater  Variety  Possible. 

{(  VJO,"    said    the   girl,    "  I    would    not 
marry  you  if  you   were  the  last 
man  on  earth." 

"  Indeed  ?"  answered  the  young  man. 
"  Your  remark  is  not  only  trite,  but  it  is 
distinctly  ill-advised.  If  I  were  the  last 
man  on  earth  I  should  say  you  would  not 
marry  me.  I  could  have  a  wider  choice 
than  I  have  at  present," 


WHAT  SHE  SAID. 
Ferdv — "  Is  it  possible  she  weferred  to  me  as  a  'dough-head'?" 
Algy — "Not  exactly  ;  but  she  said  you  had  lots  of  dough— in  your  mind.' 


Those   Discomfited   Bad   Boys 


uv^ 


sprinter  in  them  days,  an'  sech  a  job  o'  puUin'  out  o' 
that  deestrick  was  never  seen  before  ner  sence,  I 
reckon." 

Precisely. 


By  Strickland  W.   Gillilan 

'ES,"  chuckled  the  old  man   as  he  combed  his 

frosted  spinach  with  his  gnarled  hand;  "  yes, 

I  reckon  that  bunch  o'  rowdy  boys  got  fooled 

th'  time  I  took  charge  o'    th'   'Possum  Trot   school    in 

th'  winter  o'  'fifty-nine. 

"  Y'   see,  when  I   went   fast   fer  th'   school    them  Mrs.  Enpec — "  I  always  treat  my  servants  like  one  of 

directors   looked   me   over   an'   jest   fairly   haw-hawed.      the  family." 

They  couldn't  reely  believe  a  little  skinny  splinter  of  a  Mrs.   Caustic — "  Oh,   is  that  the  reason   they    never 

feller  like  me  was  in  airnest  about  wantin'  t'  tackle      stay?" 
th'  notorious  'Possum  Trot  deestrick  boys,  with 
th'  wust  reputation  in  seven  states. 

"  '  Wy,'  says  one  director,  '  Hank  Balderson 
could  turn  you  wrong-side-out  quicker'n  scat, 
an'  he's  only  one  of  about  seventeen  big 
bucks  that'll  be  in  on  ye  soon  's  huskin' 
's  over.  You  don't  know  what  you're  tack- 
lin'." 

The  old  man  chuckled  reminiscently  and 
stroked  the  aforesaid  bunch  of  spinach  again. 
Then  he  resumed. 

"  'Nother  director  said,  '  Sonny,  run  home 
t'  yer  ma.  Th'  last  man  them  big  hulks  put 
out  o'  commission  would  'a'  made  four  o'  you 
an'  had  some  left  over  fer  th'  scrap-pile.  What 
did  they  do  t'  him?  Jest  natcherally  chased 
him  plumb  outen  th'  township.  That's  what 
they  done.' 

"  Th'  third  director  allowed,  '  Well,  if  you 
ain't  got  no  more  sense  'n  t'  tackle  th'  job, 
knowin'  what  they  is  t'  be  knowed  about  it, 
sail  in,  an'  th'  Lord  pity  yer  when  th'  big  boys 
takes  a  notion  ye've  been  there  long  enuff. 
Sick  'im.  Penny,  says  I,  an'  don't  never  come 
runnin'  t'  us  fellers  fer  help.' 

"  Well,  I  took  th'  school.  Things  run 
along  right  peart  fer  a  couple  o'  weeks.  I 
seemed  t'  be  learnin'  th'  scholars  a  right  smart. 
But  everybody  shuck  their  heads  over  what  was 
comin'  t'  me  when  th'  big  boys  should  start 
in. 

"  One  mornin'  I  found  th'  whole  drove  of 
'em  was  on  hand.  I  spoke  t'  'em  friendly 
like,  but  not  one  of  'em  done  anything  but 
jest  snicker  an'  wink  at  one  another.  That  day 
things  went  on  jest  about  like  usual,  though 
they  was  plainly  trouble  in  th'  air.  Jest 
when  school  let  out  fer  th'  afternoon  two  o' 
th'  biggest  chaps  started  fer  me.  I  stood  my 
ground  until  they  got  within  about  fifteen  feet 
o'  me,  an'  then  I  pulled  out  " 

"Yes,  grandpa!"  eagerly  interrupted  the 
breathless  boy  who  was  gulping  down  the 
Trowbridge  literature  with  both  eyes,  mouth, 
and  whatever  other  features  have  apertures  in 
them.     "  You  pulled  out  " ■ 


"You    jest    bet    I    pulled    out!"    chuckled 
the   old   man   reminiscently.     "  I   was   a   good 


WHY  SHE  HESITATES. 

Ferdie — "Oh,  come  on,  Ethel!     Let's  Elope." 

Ethel — "  Oh,  I  don't  believe  I  dast,     I  don't  believe  pa  would  let  me.' 


WHO  DOES   THE  BRAGGING? 

First  fish — "  Which  one  of  those  fishermen  up  there  is  doing  all 
that  bragging  ?'* 

Second  fish — "  He's  the  one  we're  getting  all  the  bait  from.  " 

Fussley's  Scheme  Fell  Through. 

THE  Fussleys  had  started  for  the  country.     That  is, 
they  had  reached  the  depot,  and  their  train  was 
about  due,   when   Mrs.   Fussley   suddenly  caught 
her  husband  by  the  arm  and  excitedly  exclaimed, 

"  Charles,  I  am  sure  we  forgot  to  close  the  window 
in  the  library,  and  " 

"Now,  don't  have  a  nervous  fit,  Julia!"  cut  in  Fuss- 
ley.  "  Every  summer  we  go  away  you  hang  around  this 
old  depot  for  hours,  while  I'm  sent  home  on  fool  errands; 
but  this  time  I'm  prepared  for  you.  For  the  past  three 
weeks  I've  been  jotting  down  the  little  things  that 
you're  always  so  nervous  about,  and  I  have  carefully 
attended  to  them  all.  Here,  I'll  read  you  the  list,  and 
you'll  see  that  I've  checked  off  everything: 

'"Put  out  the  cat— 0.  K. 

"  '  Lock  all  doors  and  windows — 0.  K. 

"  '  Take  in  the  clothes-lines— O.  K. 

"  '  Give  front-door  key  to  Brown — O.  K. 

"  '  Leave  canary-bird  at  Smith's — O.  K. 

Notify  postman  where  to  leave  mail — O.  K. 

"  '  Put  covers  on  parlor  chairs — O.  K. 

"  'Put  cellar  boards  over  gratings — O.  K. 

"  '  Take  in  chairs  from  veranda — 0.  K. 

"  '  Pull  down  window  shades — • 

"'Take  in'" 


"  Hold  on,  Charles !"  interrupted  Mrs.  Fussley.  "  You 
haven't  an  'O.  K.'  after  that  last  item." 

"  N-no,  I  haven't;  but  I  must  have  attended  to  it. 
We  wouldn't  go  away  without  noticing  the  shades." 

"  But  we  left  in  such  a  hurry.  Dear  me !  the  sun  will 
ruin  that  new  parlor  carpet  in  a  week  or  two.  Oh,  I'll 
never  take  a  moment's  comfort  while  I'm  away — not 
a  single  moment's  comfort!  You'll  have  to  go  back, 
Charles." 

Fussley  did  not  reply  for  a  time.  He  took  out  his 
handkerchief  and  mopped  his  perspiring  face,  and  then 
savagely  tore  up  into  little  bits  the  list  of  things  he  was 
to  remember.  Finally  he  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  and  slowly 
arose  and  said, 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  do  it,  or  you'll  worry  us 
both  to  death.  We'll  have  to  take  the  two-twenty  train 
if  I  can  get  back  in  time.  Mrs.  Fussley,  do  you  know 
what  we  are  going  to  do  next  year  to  end  this  sort  of 
thing?" 

"What,  Charles?" 

"  We  are  going  to  close  up  the  house  and  board  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  for  a  week  or  two,  and  that 
will  give  you  a  chance  to  go  home  every  day  and  see  that 
nothing  has  been  forgotten."  a.  b.  lewis. 

His  Sentiment. 

i(  ^TES,  I  acknowledge  that  your  father  did  me  a  favor 
once  which  placed  me  under  a  lasting  obligation 

to  him.     I   cannot,   therefore,   refuse  to  lend   you   the 

money.     But  come  around  to-morrow  for  it,  won't  you':'" 
"  Certainly,  if  you  haven't  got  it  now. " 
"Oh,  I  have  it  now,  all  right;  only  I  hate  on  such 

short  notice  to  part  forever  with  what  is  near  and  dear 

to  me." 


A  STF^NUOUS  LODGE-IVIAN. 
De  Joiner — "  Huh!  I've  just  taken  my  first  degre 
and  there  are  as  many  more  as  I  want  to  take." 


Professional  Interest. 

HE  lady  with  the  girly  ways 
and  the  matronly  waist  is 
overjoyed  because  the  so- 
cial lion  has  paid  her 
marked  attention. 

"  He  seems  to  take  such 
an  interest  in  me,"  she 
confides  to  her  bosom- 
friend,  who  is  some  years 
younger,  and  who  also  had 
made  a  few  eyes  at  the 
social  lion. 

"  Why  shouldn't  he  ?" 
asks  the  friend,  in  that  molassesy  tone  ot  voice 
which  women  adopt  to  conceal  a  quininey 
thought  ;  "  why  shouldn't  he  ?  He  is  the  great- 
est archaeologist  in  the  country." 

Spotted. 

Lenox—"  Since  Tucker  moved  to  Jersey  he 
has  become  a  confirmed  suburbanite." 

Madison — "  Yes  ;  he  has  all  the  ear-muffs  ot 
one." 


IN   THE  GOOD   OLD  SUMMER-TIME. 
FiDO  (disturbed in  his  slumbers)— ■•'X\\e'ie^  may  be  dog-days,   but  I 
notice  the  nights  belong  to  the  cats." 


LUCKY. 

The  visitor — "They  say  that  the  old  Chinaman  yonder  is  very  rich." 

The  chink— "Oh,  yes  ;  him  very  much  luckee  man.     Him  born  with  silver  chop-stickee  in  mouth.' 


An  Open  Confession. 

I'M  Doc.  Colegrove  of  Gloversville, 
*     A  volunteer  of  grit  and  skill. 

I  put  the  conflagration  out 
And   make   the   old    onlookers 
shout. 

Refrigerators,  chests  and  chairs 
I  rattle  down  the  kitchen  stairs. 

To  save  the  child  and  ancient  dame 
Will  always  be  my  little  game. 

And  long  I'll  be  the  blithe  and  glad 
Old  foreman  of  the  hook  and  lad' 

That   now   with    pride   all   hearts 

doth  fill 
In  lovely  dear  old  Gloversville. 


A  TERRIBLE  SPELL   OF  WEATHER. 


An  After  Effect. 

THE  good  old  minister  had 
been  inveigled  into  the 
shopping  district  on  Satur- 
day by  his  two  daughters. 
They  assured  him  that  the  trip 
through  the  stores  would  liven 
him  up,  brighten  his  mind,  give 
him  new  impressions,  and  gener- 
ally have  a  beneficial  effect  upon 
him.  They  had  other  reasons  for 
making  him  go  with  them,  as  he 
afterward  discovered.  However, 
those  reasons  need  not  be  men- 
tioned here. 

Sunday  morning  he  walked  to 
the  church,  his  mind  revolving 
the  varied  scenes  he  had  witnessed 
the  day  before.  He  pondered 
over  the  vanity  of  mankind  and 
womankind  ;  he  marveled  at  the 
complexity  and  completeness  of 
the  great  business  system  of  to- 
day ;  he  meditated  upon  the 
amount  of  money  that  was  spent 
upon  frivilous  things  when  it 
might  be  elevating  the  heathen. 

These  thoughts  stayed  with 
him  as  he  mounted  the  steps  to 
the  pulpit,  and  even  when  he  was 
announcing  the  opening  hymn  a 
vision  of  the  interior  of  a  store 
came  between  his  eyes  and  the 
book.  "  Let  us  now  sing,"  he 
said,  "  number  four  hundred  and 
eighty-nine,  marked  down  from 
five  dollars." 


THE  real  proof  of  the  pudding  is 
in  the  state  of  your  stomach  the 
morning  after  you  have  eaten  it. 


A   GREAT   COMBINATION. 
Pat — "  There,  now  !     Wid  me  little  grane  mascot  on  th'  bank  an'  th'  good-looclc 
sinker  Oi'm  usin',  Oi'U  cotch  fish  av  there's  anny  in  th'  pond,  begob !" 


Thespis — "  What  did  )ou  do  in  the  theatrical 
company  ?" 

Foyer — "  I  had  a  speaking  part  going  out 
and  a  walking  one  coming  back." 


Mrs.  Crabshaw — "  My  first  husband  had 
much  better  sense  than  you  have." 

Crabshiiw — "  I  don't  see  why.  We  were 
both  foolish  enough  to  marry  you." 


The  Gong   Was 
Gone. 

T  THE  farm 
the  boarders 
are  summon- 
ed to  dinner  by  a  long 
blast  on  a  big  horn. 

"  How's  this,  Mr. 
M  e  d  d  e  r  g  r  a  s  s  ?" 
asks  a  boarder  who 
has  just  arrived,  but 
who  was  a  guest  of 
the  place  last  year. 

"  How  's  what  ?" 

"  Why,  you  blow 
a  horn  for  dinner 
now,  but  last  year 
you  had  a  big  brass 
gong  that  made  a 
cheerful,  railway- 
restaurant  racket  at 
eating-time." 

"  That  gong?  Oh, 
yes  ;  I  remember 
now.  You  see,  jest 
after  you  went  away 
last  summer  along 
comes  a  circus  feller 
with  his  show  on 
wagons  an'  on  foot, 
an'  he  dickered  with 
me  fer  dinner  fer 
the  hull  outfit,  an' 
I'm  blamed  ef  his 
ostrich  didn't  sneak 
up  to  the  house 
an'  eat  that  gong 
whilst  the  rest  of 
'em  was  in  the  dinin'- 
room." 

Worse  Yet. 

(( IVJO,  sir,"  protests 
the  man  with 
the  big  cap  and  the 
goggles  ;  "  I  would 
not  have  a  horse.  A 
horse  simply  eats 
its  head  off  all  the 
time.  Give  me  an 
auto." 

"Huh!"  c  om- 
ments  the  man  who 
wears  a  horseshoe 
scarf-pin.  "  A  horse 
may  eat  his  head 
off,  but  an  auto  is 
apt  to  blow  your 
head  off." 


Mrs.  Farm.r — "  Here  my  poor  man,  are 
some  cold  sausages." 

Weary  Willie — "  'Scuse  me,  mum,  but  don't 
your  sign  say  '  Beware  of  the  dog '  ?" 


4- 

Mrs.  lie  Styles — "  What  a  clear,  strong  voice 
your  minister  has." 

Mr.  Dumtit — •'  Yes  ;  he  used  to  call  out  the 
departure  of  the  trains  in  a  railroad-station." 


THE  REALISTIC   ARTIST'S   VISITOR   RUINS   THE  REALISTIC   PAINTING. 


Bcc  Talk 


S 


By  Jack  Robinson 


OME  years  ago  I  sailed  from  New  York  to  Savan- 
nah  on  the  palatial    steamship   Le   Grande    Du- 
cheese,  or  Ze  Grande  Duchese,  whichever  her  name 
is,    for   I    think  she  is   running  yet,    though   she 
stopped  when  we  got  to  Savannah  to  let  us  get  off. 
It  only  took  fifty-six  hours  to  run  down,  but  then  I  had 
a  first-cabin  ticket  ;  I  presume   it  may  take  longer  in  the 
steerage. 

But  fifty-six  hours  is  quick  time  when  you  come  to 
think  of  it.  Just  about  long  enough  to  the  New  York  and 
Boston  round-trip,  though  there's  a  good  deal  of  difference 
in  the  two  trips.  One  makes  a  noise  like  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  and  the  other  makes  a  noise  like  the  Sound. 

Friendships  mature  quickly  on  shipboard,  and  fate 
ordained  that  I  should  "  become  acquaint  "  with  a  Mr. 
Verris,  who  lived  up  P'kepsie  way,  and  I  understood  him 
to  say  he  was  a  bar-keep.  "  Is  it  a  first-class  saloon  ?"  I 
asked  ;  but  he  looked  at  me  reprovingly.     "  Bee-keeper," 


THE 


MAN. 


Hugh  McGregor  [who  has  been  imbibing  as  usual) 
McGregor,  wha  keeps  the  grocery-store?" 

His  friend — "  Your  son,  John  McGregor?   Why,  of  course  I  know  him  ! 
What  is  the  matter?" 

Hugh  McGregor — "Why,  he  kicked  me  cot  o'  his  store  just  noo.     But 
A'll  show  him — AMI  show  him  A'  kem  from  a  better  family  than  ever  he  did." 


he  explained.  "I  have  heard  of  mad  dogs,"  I  said,  "  but 
I  didn't  know  bees  went  dippy";  then  remembering  that 
my  book  on  traveling  etiquette,  or,  the  "Man-of-the- 
World's  Manual,"  says  we  should  profess  a  light,  good- 
natured,  if  even  superficial,  knowledge  of  everything,  I 
added,  "Do  you  milk  them  yourself.?  and  how  much 
maple-syrup  does  a  good  healthy  bee  give  down  ?"  But 
he  strode  haughtily  over  to  the  port  side  and  refused  to 
enter  into  conversation  with  me  again. 

But  he  had  confided  unto  me  that  there  is  big  money 
in  bees,  and  all  the  way  from  Savannali  to  Jax.  that  bee 
idea  kept  buzzing  in  my  thinker.  I  resolved  if  I  ever  went 
north  again  I  would  save  my  money,  buy  me  a  bee,  quit 
work  and  no  doubt  in  time  might  get  into  hen-culture  ; 
thence  perhaps  to  live-stock,  and  perhaps  finish  up  with 
an  Arabian  horse-ranch,  like  Mr.  Davenport.  He  started 
life  with  nothing  but  a  buffalo  and  the  stub  of  an  old  lead- 
pencil,  and  look  where  he  is  to-day  ! 

Cruel  circumstance  drew  me  north  the 
following  spring  ;  thence  the  scene  rapidly 
shifted  to  the  strenuous  West,  where  I  had 
to  work  so  hard  to  make  my  own  living, 
the  idea  of  providing  for  another  mouth 
than  my  own  was  out  of  the  question.  How 
could  one  afford  to  buy  honey  for  a  bee, 
when  he  was  only  getting  dilute  corn- 
syrup  on  his  own  wheat-cakes  ? 

In  Chicago  I  tarried  long.  But  nobody 
there  seemed  to  know  anything  about  bees, 
their  habits,  food,  drink  or  how  they  should 
be  bedded  down  nights.  Would  I  like  to 
go  into  the  mushroom  business  ?  A  fellow 
offered  to  rent  me  a  room  and  show  me 
how  to  mix  up  my  own  mush.  There  are 
lots  of  mushroomers  in  Chicago,  especially 
in  winter. 

Then  one  day  I  crossed  the  lake,  and  in 
an  evil  hour  dropped  into  Grand  Rapids. 
Now,  Grand  Rapids  is  a  very  good  place 
of  its  kind  ;  if  you  don't  mind  the  smell  ol 
glue  and  the  smoke  and  the  noise  and  the 
sawdust,  and  can  worry  along  with  the 
people,  it's  not  so  bad. 

Theosophists  tell  us  that  we  owe  our  luck 
■ — good,  stony  and  indifferent — to  Karma. 
Karma  is  something  in  Hindu  like  Kismet 
in  Turkese,  or  Turquoise,  whichever  you 
call  it.  It  means  Fate.  They  claim  our 
fate  depends  solely  upon  the  kind  of  Karma 
we  made  in  our  last  incarnation.  This 
time  I  was  born  of  poor  but  honest  parents, 
but  if  ever  I  lived  on  earth  before  I  must 
have  been  a  "holy  terror,"  for  I  had  to  live 
and  work  three  long  years  in  Grand  Rap- 
ids before  I  got  all  that  dirty  old  Karma 
wiped    off  the   slate.     In    my  leisure  mo- 


-"  Do  ye  ken  John 


sharp,  Eyetalian  dagger  from  his  hip 
pocket  and  stabbed  me  extremely  severely 
repeatedly. 

I  had  never  seen  one  before,  but  all  at 
once  I  had  an  instinctive  and  intuitive 
hunch  this  must  be  a  live  bee.  "  Help  ! 
Help  !"  I  cried  as  I  pluckily  held  on  to 
the  assassin.  "  Help !  Help  !  Assist- 
ance !     I  have  caught  a  bee." 

Joel,  the  hired  man,  came  running, 
armed  with  his  trusty  hoe. 

"  That  hain't  no  bee,  ye  gol-dum 
Rhode  Island  goat-eating  loggerhead," 
he  said  ;  "  that's  a  yellow-jacket — a  Maine 
hornet." 

But  some  day  I  shall  buy  me  a  bee,  if 
it  takes  my  last  cent. 


The  lion 
The  tiger  cub 


A  SLIM  OUTLOOK. 
What  is  the  outlook  for  a  good,  hearty  supper? " 
Just  at  present  it  is  very  slim." 


ments  I  would  inquire  about  bees.  But  nobody  in  town  seemed  to  know  about 
bees.  Would  I  like  to  buy  a  house  and  lot  and  some  second-hand  lead-pipe? 
Destiny  at  last  gave  a  shove,  and  I  hied  me  to  the  Pacilic  slope  on  a 
thirty-three-dollar  settler's  ticket,  get  your  grub  catch-as-catch-can  at  the 
tank  stations.     We  stopped  over  in  Denver  a  couple  of  days. 

But  no  one  in  Denver  seemed  to  know  anything  about  bees — unless,  per- 
haps, there  might  be  a  mine  named  the  Busy  Bee.  Now,  would  I  like  a  few 
yards  of  fresh  mining-stock,  right  off  the  cylinder  press  ?  Five  cents  a 
share,  and  sure  to  go  to  six.  They  print  it  in  rolls  like  wall-paper  in  Den- 
ver. When  they  have  got  all  your  money  they  show  you  the  border. 
I  said,  "  No  ;  if  I  can't  have  a  bee,  g'way  'n  let  me  bee." 
So  in  time  we  got  over  the  Ridge  and  stopped  at  Oakland  Mole,  where  we 
took  ferry  over  to  'Frisco.  As  the  good  ship  bumped  into  the  ferry-piling  I 
saw  some  strange  creatures  perched  on  the  warehouse  roof  near  the  wharf, 
and  asked  a  fellow-voyageur  if  those  were  bees.  He  said  no  ;  they  were 
California  sea-gulls,  waiting  for  an  earthquake  to  come  along. 

"Ah!  My  word  !"  I  responded,  making  a  noise  like  an  English  tourist 
who  sees  something  for  the  first  time  but  won't  let  on.  "  Yes,"  he  continued ; 
"  they  know  if  a  quake  comes  along  they  will  get  a  bite  of  something  to  eat 
out  of  the  relief  fund.  Marveling,  I  strode  rapidly  up  Market  Street  and  got 
a  free  drink  of  water  at  Lotta's  fountain.  Little  did  I  reck  that  I  would  after- 
ward understand  those  gulls,  and  be  glad  of  three  San  Francisco  sinkers 
for  a  nickel — or  two,  if  you  take  coffee. 

But  we  glided  down  the  coast  line  and  dawdled  all  winter  in  Los  Angeles, 
but  nobody  there  seemed  to  have  bees  to  sell.  Would  I  like  to  buy  an  orange- 
grove — or,  say,  an  ostrich-farm  ?     As  I  do  not  speak  Austrian  I  declined. 

Ah,  me  !  the  whirligig  of  Fate  !  The  remorseless  Wheel  of  Time  !  Last 
summer  found  me  in  Maine,  lying  face  up  gazing  at  the  apple-blossoms,  in  a 
Mexican  hammock  that  was  never  any  nearer  El  Paso,  Texas,  than  a  five-and- 
ten-cent  counter  ;  and  everybody  knows  that  in  El  Paso  everything  is  two 
bits,  or  four  bits,  or  six  bits,  as  the  case  may  be.  The  first  time  I  heard  this 
odd  expression,  I  said  haughtily  but  not  unkindly,  "  Sir,  do  not  say  two  bits, 
say  two  biles  ;  it's  more  grammatical."  But  Arizona  Joe  reached  for  some- 
thing shiny  with  one  hand  and  his  lariat  with  the  other,  muttered  some  Cas- 
tellano  words  that  I  could  not  find  in  my  Spanish  dictionary  afterward,  and  I 
dropped  the  subject  hastily  and  climbed  back  aboard  the  Overland.  I  wished, 
when  it  was  too  late,  I  had  asked  him  to  lasso  me  a  bee. 

But  as  I  lay  in  the  hammock,  quietly  musing,  all  at  once  I  heard  a  strange, 
buzzing  sound,  which  grew  rapidly  louder,  like  an  electric-car  skimming  along 
the  pike,  and  some  strange,  winged  shrub  alighted  suddenly  on  my  resolute 
chin  ;   and  when  I  tried  to  brush  him  off  he  turned  on  me  savagely,  drew  a 


THE  PORTRAIT  SAVED  HIM. 
"Jones  always  said  that  some  day  1 
would  be  glad  I  had  his  portrait  of  Maria." 


-A 


THE  CIRCUIT  COURT 


BY  DONALD  CAMERON  SHAFER 


BEHIND  the  rail  the  lawyers,  court  officers  and  news- 
paper men  tilted  in  their  chairs  about  the  clerk's 
desk  awaiting  the   judge  who   always  lingered 
long  over  his  lunch.     The  deputy  sheriff  passed 
again  the  box  of  excellent  cigars. 

"  I  had  been  in  town  about  three  months,"  began  At- 
torney John  Miller,  "  before  my  first  case  came  shuffling, 
reluctant  and  afraid,  into  my  office  one  morning  in  the 
shape  of  an  aged  colored  man. 

"  His  son,  Alexander  Hamilton  Jeffers,  was  in  trouble 
and  needed  a  tome  of  legal  advice.  The  young  negro  had 
broken  a  bar  mirror  during  some  trouble  in  a  saloon  in 
Rotterdam.  The  trial  was  set  down  for  that  afternoon, 
and  the  aged  father  begged  me  in  an  Uncle  Tom  voice  to 
go  and  get  his  son  liberated.  Touched  by  the  old  man's 
confidence  and  grief  I  confessed  that  there  was  no  reason 
between  Ursus  Major  and  the  city  hall  why  I  should  not 
lOck-my  resting  place  and  look  after  his  unfortunate  son 
who  was  threatened  with  the  road  gang. 

"  The  trial  was  before  the  justice  of  the  peace,  Peter 
D.  Magee,  a  hotel  keeper  at  Rotterdam  Junction,  who 
held  court  in  the  small  room  to  the  rear  of  the  bar. 

"  The  hotel  was  making  a  dismal  failure  of  accommo- 
dating the  male  population  of  the  township  when  we  ar- 
rived and  the  trial  was  ready  to  start.  I  found  my 
client,  a  gothic-headed,  long-legged  negro,  in  the  back 
room,  handcuffed  to  the  constable.  Big  George  Dobbie,  a 
man  of  great  height  and  prize  squashy  growth. 

"  I  casually  informed  the  judge  that  I  was  there  to 
defend  the  prisoner. 

"  '  Be  ye  a  lawyer,  sonny,'  he  asked,  '  with  the  right 
to  expound  the  law  in  this  court?" 

"  I  told  him  I  was  and  had  the  documents  to  prove  it, 
and  was  even  then  seeking  an  opportunity  to  convince  a 
'doubting  world  of  my  embryo  legal  ability.  Then  I 
asked  permission  for  a  private  conference  with  my 
client.  After  carefully  looking  up  the  law  on  the  sub- 
ject and  whispering  with  two  wise  men  who  sat  near  the 
circular  bench,  the  judge  ordered  the  constable  to  unlock 
the  handcuffs  and  release  one  of  the  criminals.  The  room 
was  packed  with  countrymen,  glad  of  the  excuse  to  dodge 
work  for  the  day  and  welcoming  the  excitement  of  a 
trial.  With  difficulty  I  cleared  a  small  space  near  an 
open  window,  where  the  breeze  was  good  and  I  could  hold 
a  whispered  conversation  with  my  client. 

"  '  Tell  all  your  little  trouble  to  me,  Alexander  Ham- 
ilton, '  I  commanded,  explaining  that  his  father  had  sent 
me  to  look  after  his  case. 

"  '  Wall,  boss,'  whispered  Jeffers,  '  we  got  in  an  argu- 
fication  disposin'  a  crap  game,  and  Ah  heaves  a  dish  at 
dat  loafin'  bahr-tender's  haid.  But  Ah  done  "miss  him, 
boss,  and  break  de  glass.  Don't  yo'  see  any  way  fo'  me 
out  o'  dis,  Mr.  Lawyerman?  ' 


"  The  case  was  hopeless.  There  were  plenty  of  wi1> 
nesses,  and  race  prejudice  was  so  thick  in  that  room  a 
blind  man  could  have  poked  it  with  his  cane.  I  had  at 
that  time  a  fatal  gift  of  ultra-humor,  but  again  my  ten- 
der jokelet  was  misunderstood.  That  is  the  trouble  with 
my  humor — no  one  can  understand  it. 

"  '  My  unfortunate  Senegambian,'  answered  I  in  my 
most  nonchalant  and  jocund  manner,  '  there  is  but  one 
way  for  you  to  escape  the  punishment  which  these  men 
are  waiting  to  deal  out  for  you,  and  that  is  through  that 
open  window!' 

"  Never  since  have  I  known  a  client  to  demonstrate 
such  confidence  in  legal  opinion  and  suggestion,  nor  seen 
one  accept  legal  advice  with  such  promptness  and  alac- 
rity. Without  stopping  to  question  the  soundness  of  my 
logic,  without  a  single  doubt  or  fear  as  to  my  superior 
judgment  and  counsel,  he  made  a  flying  leap  through  the 
open  window,  landed  in  a  flower  bed,  and  dashed  across  a 
garden  into  the  wilds  of  Rotterdam. 

"  '  Stop  that  nigger!  Catch  him,  somebody!"  yelled 
the  judge,  vaulting  his  judicial  bench  and  plunging 
through  the  window  in  his  eagerness  to  be  the  first  to 
execute  his  orders. 

"  The  posse  was  organized  on  the  run.  The  court  at- 
tendants and  prospective  jurymen  needed  no  urging,  as 
they  could  see  their  visions  of  an  afternoon  off,  the  im- 
portance of  being  a  juror  and  the  court  fees  fading  away 
to  the  south  like  a  blackbird  before  a  heavy  frost.  It 
was  the  first  and  only  time  I  have  ever  seen  Justice  in 
actual  pursuit  of  Crime.  The  negro  was  pursued  by  a 
rural  Nemesis,  corporeal  and  threatening.  Across  the 
fields  we  raced,  strung  out  in  an  irregular  line,  the  stem 
chase  promising  to  be  a  long  one. 

"  '  Stop,  you  black !" Magee  was  yelling  at  every 

jump,  and  he  was  gaining,  too.  'Stop!  Halt!  You're 
resisting  arrest !  You're  disobeying  the  commands  of  an 
officer  of  the  law!     Halt,  you!' 

"  But  the  threats  only  quirted  the  negro  into  longer 
strides.  The  pursuers  gave  voice  like  a  pack  of  human 
beagles,  and,  regardless  of  sweltering  heat,  growing 
crops  or  uncut  hay,  bent  every  effort  to  run  down  their 
quarry. 

' '  The  monstrous  constable  and  I  brought  up  the  rear. 
I  was  not  anxious  for  a  sprint  that  hot  day,  because  I  do 
not  believe  in  violent  exercise  or  unusual  exertion.  Be- 
sides it  is  always  our  policy  to  move  as  slowly  as  possible 
in  criminal  work.  I  kept  in  sight  of  the  game  partly  in 
the  interest  of  my  client  and  partly  to  watch  George 
Dobbie  hurl  his  300  and  odd  pounds  of  flesh  through  the 
circumambient  air.  He  lurched  heavily  over  the  rough 
places,  cursing  his  corpulency  which  stood  about  two  feet 
between  him  and  the  performance  of  his  sworn  duty,  and 
me  for  an  accomplice  of  the  escaped  prisoner.     He  was 


the  easiest  and  most  successful  swearer  I  have  ever  had 
the  pleasure  to  listen  to— profanity  was  not  a  habit  with 
Dobbie ;  it  was  a  gift. 

"  Far  in  the  distance  we  could  see  the  angry  judge 
leading  the  race.  He  was  taking  the  rail  fences  as  easily 
as  a  blooded  hunter  and  the  level  fields  like  a  Saratoga 
thoroughbred.  He  was  only  a  few  yards  behind  the 
fugitive,  with  the  village  smithy,  a  grocery  clerk  and  the 
postmaster  close  behind.  The  negro  was  rapidly  nearing 
the  thick  brush  by  the  Normankill,  and  it  looked  as 
though  1  had  given  him  the  correct  advice  and  escape  was 
certain.  Suddenly  the  judge's  arm  waved  and  the  bung 
starter,  which  he  always  used  as  a  gavel  and  clung  to 
during  the  chase,  flew  through  the  air  and  struck  the  gy- 
rating woolly  pate,  dropping  the  negro  as  limp  as  a  dead 
duck. 

"  Judge  Magee  fell  panting  across  the  prisoner,  to  be 
joined  in  a  minute  by  those  who 
were  contesting  for  second  money. 
With  difficulty  I  removed  the 
court  from  my  prisoner  and  found 
him  nearly  suffocated,  short  of 
wind  and  badly  scared.  I  had 
great  difficulty  in  cheering  Al- 
exander. 

"  When  the  distance  back  to 
the  hotel  was  roughly  calculated, 
it  seemed  about  eleven  miles  and 
the    fences    almost    seemed    to 


zens,  Ed.  Slover;  and,  thirdly,  with  resistin'  arrest  and 
abusin'  an  officer.'  He  stopped  and  gasped  for  breath, 
giving  me  time  to  recover ;  then  he  looked  the  defendant 
square  in  the  eye  and  yelled,  '  Nigger,  guilty  or  not 
guilty?' 

"  '  But,  judge,'  I  interposed,  '  you  can't  try  the  pris- 
oner on  all  those  counts.  It's  beyond  your  jurisdiction. 
You' 

"  '  I  can't,  hey!'  he  bellowed,  jumping  up  and  thun- 
dering on  the  box  with  the  gavel.  '  I'll  show  you  who's 
runnin'  this  here  court.  Don't  you  try  to  intimidate  and 
sass  me  or  I'll  fine  ye  fer  contempt.  If  ye  are  goin'  ter 
plead  fer  that  migratory,  manslaughterin',  property- 
destroyin'  miscreant,  who  ought  to  be  lynched  out  of 
general  principles,  do  so  and  have  done.  I  say,  nigger, 
guilty  or  not  guilty?' 

"  I  began  to  wish  my  client  had  been  geared  for 


The  saleslady—" 
Smart  customer- 
The  saleslady—' 


grow. 

"  '  It's  too  hot  fer  me  to  go 
'way  back  there,'  oozed  the  fat 
constable,  gasping  for  breath  as 
he  double  handcuffed  the  prisoner 
and  adjusted  the  '  twisters.' 

"  Farmer  Albert  Wingate, 
sopping  perspiration  with  a  blue 
handkerchief,  came  to  our  rescue. 

"  '  Pete,  I've  got  some  pert 
cider,'  said  he;  'and  supposin' 
we  all  hike  over  to  my  hum  and 
finish  this  'ere  strenuous  case  in 
my  waggin  house.  I'm  as  dry  as 
a  cork  leg  in  a  dusky  garret. ' 

"  We  were  all  tired,  damp  and  hot,  so  the  invitation 
was  accepted  and  we  adjourned  to  the  wagon  house, 
where  court  resumed,  after  a  round  of  excellent  cider, 
with  Justice  Magee  seated  on  a  wheelbarrow  behind  a 
packing-box.  The  rest  of  the  court  found  seats  on  in- 
verted buckets,  boxes  and  blocks  of  wood.  The  specta- 
tors had  increased  until  the  premises  looked  more  like  a 
country  auction  than  a  session  of  Justice's  court. 

"  The  judge  silenced  the  crowd  by  banging  on  the 
packing-box  with  the  bloody  gavel. 

"  '  I  declare  this  court  wide  open  and  resumin'  busi- 
ness, '  he  called  in  a  voice  still  broken  from  hard  breath- 
ing; 'the  furst  and  only  case  to  be  called  is  that  of  the 
pepul  of  the  state  of  New  York  vs.  Ham.  Jeffers,  charged 
fustly  with  damagin'  property  to  the  extent  of  $200; 
secondly,  with  havin'  committed  a  grevious  and  melishus 
and  premedditated  assault  on  one  of  our  esteemed  citi- 


HE  DIDN'T  WAIT. 
What  would  you  like,  sir?" 
■"  A  nice  little  l<iss,  please." 
'  Wait  a  moment.    Mr.  Booker,  here's  a  grentleman  wants  a  kiss  r* 

greater  speed.  I  wanted  Jeffers  to  plead  guilty  to  break- 
ing the  glass,  but  he  refused  and  demanded  a  trial,  so  I 
entered  a  stipulated  plea  of  not  guilty  and  the  trial  be- 
gan. The  jury  of  six  good  men  and  true  was  drawn  from 
a  dirty  cigar-box  by  the  town  clerk.  He  looked  at  each 
slip  carefully  before  he  drew  it,  proving  that  he  was  per- 
fectly competent  to  draw  a  jury  and  announcing  his  deci- 
sion in  the  usual  inaudible  voice.  My  client  whispered 
that  one  of  the  jurors  was  a  relative  of  the  judge. 

"  '  I  excuse  Mr.  Hastings,'  I  announced,  indicating  a 
middle-aged  man  behind  a  ponderous  mustache.  Mr. 
Hastings  jerked  to  his  feet  with  an  oath  and  dropped  back 
with  a  gasp,  nearly  choking  on  his  fine-cut. 

"  '  Ye  can't  do  it!    Ye  can't  do  it!'  he  protested. 

"  But  I  did  do  it,  and  I  excused  two  more  just  to  show 
that  I  could  keep  it  up. 

"  By  hard  work  I  prevailed  upon  the  court  to  release 


the  prisoner  during  the  trial  and  to  surround  him  with  a 
sufficient  guard.  The  trial  continued  with  great  enthusi- 
asm, as  the  press  would  say.  The  first  witness  to  tate 
the  stand  was  Ed.  Slover,  who  had  been  cut  by  the  flying 
glass.  The  witness  was  of  the  very  common  type  of 
rumduni.  The  glass  had  not  damaged  his  head  much,  al- 
though his  cranium  looked  as  though  a  not  over-strong 
youngster  could  knock  his  brains  out  with  the  bar  towel. 
He  testified  that  he  was  merely  assisting  the  bar-keep  in 
removing  the  negro's  money  when  he  was  struck  down  by 
the  flying  glass.  He  swore  that  he  had  seen  the  negro 
throw  the  dish,  and  admitted  under  cross-examination 
that  his  back  was  turned. 

"  At  this  time  the  court  was  interrupted  by  a  new  ar- 
rival, '  Joe  '  Ryan,  who  was  debarred  five  years  before 
and  who  made  a  precarious  living  by  practicing  in  Jus- 
tice's court  and  drawing  up  papers.  Although  Ryan  was 
even  then  well  on  his  way  to  the  devil  and  has  sines 
probably  reached  his  destination,  he  was  a  pretty  shrewd 
old  pettifogger.  That  day  his  black  clothing  was  unusu- 
ally rusty  and  his  linen  slippery  with  perspiration.  His 
face  looked  like  a  peeled  blood  orange  from  a  combination 
of  heat,  haste  and  whiskey.  His  protruding,  red-rimmed 
eyes  leaked  streams  of  water,  evidently  filtered  from  the 
poor  whiskey  amalgamated  with  his  flesh.  He  assisted 
the  people,  of  course,  as  he  and  Judge  Magee  were  always 
thicker  than  seven  in  a  bed. 

"  In  the  firf  'i  round  Ryan  and  I  clashed.  The  attorney 
for  the  people  took  advantage  of  the  desultory  order  of 
the  court  to  voice  a  few  personal  remarks  about '  young 
whip-snappers  with  their  profound  perspicuity  and  peri- 
odical persistency  in  trying  to  debase  the  noble  profession 
of  Blackstone  with  their  effervescent  effusions.'  I  de- 
murred and  we  started  to  argue  the  point  then  and  there. 
The  argument  gn^ew  hotter  and  hotter  until  we  were  both 


AS  IP  IT  AFFECTED  THEM. 
'  The  Deadbrokes  are  trying  awfully  hard  to  keep  up  appearances." 
Yea.    They  even  try  to  wear  a  worrid  expression  when  there's  a  break  in  the  stock-market. 


talking  at  once.  I  was  mad,  but  Ryan  was  soon  raving. 
The  judge  bawled  that  he  would  fine  us  both,  and  the 
noisy  gavel  added  to  the  din.  r 

"  To  say  the  spectators  enjoyed  the  wordy  battle  is 
Impugning  the  powers  of  expression.  They  reveled  in  it 
as  a  festival  of  joy  and  a  carnival  of  mirth.  They  as- 
sisted and  abetted  to  the  excitement  by  shouting  encour- 
aging ejaculations  to  both  of  us  until  the  wagon  house 
was  in  an  uproar.  It  was  almost  as  good  as  a  dog  fight 
to  them. 

"  '  Sic  'em,  Ryan!  Go  it,  young  feller!  Give  it  to 
him!'  they  yelled.  They  tee-heed.  They  slapped  each 
other  on  the  back  until  they  forgot  all  about  the  prisoner 
and  the  case. 

"  But  Alex.  Ham.  Jefifers  had  not  forgotten  all  those 
counts  against  him.  He  also  seemed  to  have  lost  faith 
in  my  legal  ability  to  get  him  out  of  the  trouble  and  re- 
solved to  once  more  take  his  case  into  his  own  hands — or 
feet,  if  you  want  to  put  it  that  way.  During  the  heat  of 
the  argument  he  edged  closer  to  the  wall  and  began  to 
stealthily  work  his  way  towdrd  the  door. 

"  '  Order!  Order!  Order  in  the  court!'  cried  the 
judge,  and  Dobbie  grabbed  Ryan  just  as  he  was  about  to 
close  with  me  for  six  rounds.  A  small  boy  became  so  ex- 
cited that  he  fell  off  a  high-topped  buggy,  and  during  the 
melee  which  followed  Jeffers  dashed  through  the  open 
door,  tipping  over  a  buxom  farmer's  wife  and  two  chil- 
dren en  route,  and  fled  across  the  barnyard  and  far  away. 
"  With  a  roar  like  the  South  Mountain  on  a  spring 
morning,  the  court  attendant  tore  out  of  the  building  and 
after  the  runaway.  Of  a  truth,  the  grim  hounds  of  the 
law  were  unleashed.  Foremost  in  the  hunt  was  Dobbie, 
who  happened  to  be  nearest  the  door,  with  duty  and 
thoughts  of  re-election  spurring  him  to  imusual  and  as- 
tonishing speed ;  but  he  soon  came  to  grief  in  a  barbed- 
wire  fence,  where  I  found  him  strug- 
gling and  gasping  like  a  netted  stur- 
geon. I  unhooked  the  325  pounds  of  wet 
and  irate  profanity,  not  without  leaving 
numerous  debentures  of  the  rusty  barbs 
on  his  person,  and  he  accompanied  me 
as  part  of  the  rear  guard. 

"  It  was  a  circuit  court  with  a  venge- 
ance and  without  a  definite  schedule. 
We  were  liable  to  hold  the  next  session 
anywhere.  It  looked  as  though  the 
prisoner  was  moving  for  a  change  of 
venue,  although  not  in  a  strictly  legal 
form.  Yet  some  near-jokers  might  say 
it  was  in  a  leg-al  manner. 

"  Magee  had  used  up  all  his  sprint- 
ing energy  in  the  first  sine-die  adjourn- 
ment and  had  to  fall  back  with  the  rear 
guard.  He  was  so  tired  and  weak  I 
thought  it  safe  to  try  some  of  my  orig- 
inal humor  on  him. 

"  '  Do  you  think,  judge,  you  are  mov- 
ing in  this  case  in  a  strictly  formal  and 
legal  way  and  according  to  Section  XI. 
of  the  Civil  Code?"  I  asked  in  my  most 
cheerful    and    mirth-provoking   manner. 


•  Do  you  think  you  are  pursu- 
ing: the  right  course?  It  seems 
to  me  that  your  steps  so  far 
have  been  rather  hasty  and  im- 
proper. You  should  not  have 
allowed  the  defendant  to  waive 
trial  in  this  informal  and  un- 
expected manner.  You  have 
very  niggardly  allowed  his 
answer  to  the  allegations  to 
be  filed  ad  referendum, '  I  con- 
tinued. 'Now,  in  special 
courses  of  this  nature,  where 
the  proceedings  run  ' 

"  '  Go  to  hell!'  panted  the 
judge. 

"'Really,  Mr.  Magee,'  I 
taunted, '  you  run  this  court  in 
a  most  unusual  and  desultory 
and  vacillating  manner.  It 
seems  to  me  you  are  too 
eager,  too  hasty;  that  you 
hurry  through  your  sessions 
with  a  little  too  much  careless 
freedom  and  weird  abandon. 
You  do  not  exercise  the  prop- 
er amount  of  dignity  and  de- 
corum vested  in  you  as  a  justice  of  the  peace.  You  do 
not  keep  in  touch  with  the  case — not  close  enough  to  the 
testimony  and  to  the  defendant.  You  have  allowed  the 
prisoner  to  take  and  exercise  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus 
without  the  necessary  documents  and  proper  signatures. 


FAE-SIGHTED. 

"Did  your  landlord  notice  the  leaky  roa£  when  he^was 
around  collecting  the  rent  this  morning  ?" 

*'  No ;  but  he  saw  the  little  window  in  the  garret  my  boy 
Johnny  broke." 


Perhaps  he  is  even  now  going 
after  the  signatures.  Judge, 
you  ought  to  quash  this  alta- 

via  breach  of  the  suit ' 

"  Magee  stumbled  and  fell 
into  a  dead  furrow  while  strik- 
ing at  me  with  the  bung- 
starter,  and  I  only  heard  the 
sputter  of  coagulated  profan- 
ity as  I  raced  by. 

"The  way  that  colored 
ex-parte  order  handled  his  feet 
made  it  look  more  like  the 
Marathon  race  than  a  carte- 
blanche  session  of  Justice's 
court. 

"A  couple  of  haymakers, 
of  a  low,  rakish  build,  joined 
the  chase  and  were  soon  lead- 
ing nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
ahead  of  me.     It  was  more 
than  passing  evident  that  un- 
less something  unusual   hap- 
pened I  would  not  be  in  at  the 
death.    Already  I  needed  field- 
glasses  to  see  what  moves  my 
legal   opponent  was  making. 
I  was  powerless  to  interpose  the  usual  objections.     It 
looked  not  unlike  a  party  of  New  York  war  correspond- 
ents in  pursuit  of  an  insipid  South  American  rebellion. 

"  Just  as  the  negro  was  climbing  the  cinder  bank  on  to 
the  railroad  tracks  a  fast  freight  rounded  a  curve,  and  he 


His  side. 


WHAT  THEY  SEE. 


Her  side. 


*7C^ 


risked  b<xly  and  soul 
by  swinging  aboard. 
The  haymakers  were 
equally  as  brave,  and 
in  a  jiffy  were  chasing 
the  negro  over  the  tops 
of  the  freight  cars.  A 
brakeman  headed  the 
game  off  in  front,  and 
Jeffers  had  to  jump. 
By  some  strange  trick 
of  fortune  the  train 
had  carried  the  negro 
around  the  posse  in  a 
wide  curve  and  within 
a  few  yards  of  Con- 
stable Dobbie,  who  was 
floundering  in  the  rear 
like  a  drowning  mule 
in  the  canal.  The  es- 
caping prisoner  struck 
the  cinders  in  a  heap  just  over  the  wire  fence  from  the 
bailiff,  who  gave  a  whoop  and  a  gasp  and  rolled  under 
the  fence,  leaving  a  section  of  a  garment,  and  threw  his 
bulky  form  across  the  negro. 

"  Not  until  then  did  I  entertain  any  fears  for  the  life 
of  my  client. 

"  Magee  came  tearing  up  with  a  majority  of  the  posse, 
and  wanted  to  give  the  prisoner  a  death  sentence  then 
and  there  with  the  bung-starter,  but  he  was  so  exhausted 
that  I  easily  held  him.  The  fat  constable  sat  on  the 
negro,  his  tongue  hanging  out  so  far  you  could  have 
written  a  note  of  issue  on  it  with  a  carpenter's  pencil. 
I  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  him  up,  because  he  was 
too  tired  to  stand  and  did  not  want  to  sit  on  the  ground 
and  catch  cold.  Although  Jeffers  was  more  dead  than 
alive,  he  was  bound  hand  and  foot  and  held  by  two  men. 
I  began  to  think  I  would  lose  my  first  case. 

"  While  we  rested  and  waited  for  our  breath  to  catch 
up,  the  already  large  crowd  was  augmented 
by  every  Hill-garian  who  had  witnessed  the 
cross-country  run  and  wanted  to  know  what 
it  was  all  about.  We  were  more  than  a  mile 
from  the  nearest  house,  so  the  prisoner  was 


ONLY  THE  SOUND. 
"  Do  you  call  that  sound  logic,  squire?" 
"The  sound  's  all  there,  jedge,  but  I  don't  seem  to  ketch  the  logic." 


PRETENDING. 
Mother,  may  I  p'etend  I'm  a  lion  ?" 
No,  dear.    You'll  make  too  much  noise." 
But  if  you  p'etend  you're  another  lion  you  won't  mind  the  noise." 


carried  to  the  shade  of  three  large  maple   trees,  where 
the  trial  was  resumed  ad  finem. 

"The  judge  silenced  the  crowd  by  beating  a  tattoo  on 
the  tree  trunk  with  the  makeshift  gavel. 

"  '  Hear  ye!  Hear  ye!  This  'ere  premiscus  and  me- 
anderin'  court  will  come  to  order  at  once !'  he  commanded, 
hoarser  and  redder  than  ever.  '  I  thought  I  was  only  a 
justice  of  the  peace,  but  it  appears  I  am  presidin'  at  a 
circuit  court,  with  my  territory  dependin'  on  the  prison- 
er's runnin'  ability.  We've  caught  this  'ere  light-footed 
nigger  for  the  third  time,  and  we'll  try  him  if  we  have  to 
chase  him  to  Afreca.  The  jury  will  take  a  squat  in  the 
grass  to  my  left,  and  the  trial  of  this  dark-complected 
criminal  will  continue.  I  promised  my  aged  mother 
never  to  kill  a  nigger  without  an  excuse  and  to  alwus 
temper  mercy  with  justice,  but  if  this  treacherous  coon 
bats  another  eye  to  jump,  I'll  spread  his  choculate  re- 
mains over  this  medder  until  it  looks  like  a  .30-calibre 

Russian  picnic  in  a  Jew- 
ish township.  I  hope  you 
ding-busted  lawyers  are 
too  tired  to  talk ;  any  way, 
I'm  too  tired  to  listen  to 
ye,  so  make  her  brief  and 
towards  conviction.  What- 
ever happens,  the  nigger 
will  get  all  I  can  consci- 
entiously give  him,  and  I 
want  to  hint  right  here 
that  my  conscience  is 
sweat  wet  and  oozin' 
away  rapid. ' 

"  He  was  interrupted 
by  a  commotion  in  the 
crowd. 

"  '  I'll  swear  out  war- 
rants fer  all  o'  ye !'  yelled 
a  red-faced  man  with 
neck  whiskers,  breaking 
through    the    crowd    and 


WOMAN. 
"  Why  does  Margaret  cry  so?" 
"  She  isn't  happy  with  her  husband." 
"  Then  why  doesn't  she  divorce  him?" 
"She  says  she  wouldn't  be  happy  without  him.* 

shaking  his  fist  under  the  judge's  nose.  '  Ye  tromped 
down  more  than  three-thirds  o'  my  com,  and  the  other 
third  ain't  worth  a  damn !' 

"  '  Shut  up  or  I'll  fine  ye  fer  contempt,  Hi.  Whitten- 
burg!'  shouted  back  the  judge,  grinding  his  teeth  and 
gesticulating  wildly  with  the  gavel.  '  Get  out !  Get 
out!  Don't  stand  there  and  tempt  me!  Stop  standin' 
in  the  way  of  justice  and  interferin'  with  the  rights  of 
a  prisoner  ter  get  a  fair  trial.  Officer,  do 
your  duty. ' 

"  '  Who'll  pay  me  fer  that  field  o'  oats?' 
shouted  another  denizen  of  the  sand  hills 
who  could  not  get  inside  the  ring. 

"  '  The  same  feller  who'll  pay  me  thet 
eleven  dollars  ye've  owed  me  for  fourteen 
year,  John  Bixley!'  shouted  back  Magee, 
recognizing  the  voice.  '  Now,  let  this  'ere 
trial  continue  to  the  bitter  end,  and  may  I 
be  gored  to  death  by  bull  heads  if  another 
angrified  individual,  without  the  good  sense 
God  gives  to  geese,  comes  a-rompin'  in  here 
and  interferin'  with  judicial  business,  and 
keepin'  us  from  home  and  family,  and  spi'l- 
in'  the  bar  trade.  I'll  let  loose  and  do 
something  keerless  thet  will  make  Coroner 
Baxter  ask  the  county  fer  an  assistant.  I've 
passed  the  limit  of  human  endurance  and  the 
county  line  fer  all  I  know,  and  I  tell  ye  dis- 
cretion and  self-control  are  a-totterin'.  Let 
this  trial  go  on,  and  let  it  go  quick,  says  I.' 

"  Jeffers  announced  that  he  had  trial 
enough  and  offered  to  plead  guilty. 

"  '  I  wish  to  withdraw  my  former  plea  of 
not  guilt/. '    I  announced,    '  and   substitute 


one  of  guilty,  asking  the  mercy 
of  the  court. ' 

"'Withdraw!'  echoed  the 
judge.  '  Withdraw !  Withdraw 
out  of  the  case  if  ye  want  to,  but 
the  mercy  that  black  rascal  gets 
wouldn't  buy    a   beer  if  it  was 

rainin'  money  ' ■ 

"  Ryan  whispered  a  few  words 
to  him,  and  he  growled  that  he 
guessed  it  was  all  right  and  sen- 
tenced the  prisoner  for  a  year  at 
hard  labor.  After  being  con- 
vinced that  the  prisoner  could  not 
be  tried  except  on  the  one  count, 
Magee  announced  that  court  stood 
adjourned,  bit  a  chew  oif  a  Little 
Gem  cigar  and  led  the  way  back 
to  the  tavern  for  refreshments. ' ' 

A  Last  Resort. 

T^T.AINLY.  Mrs.  Lackwit  was 
*  troubled  as  she  sought  out 
her  husband  in  his  study. 

"  George,  I'm  actually  wor- 
ried about  Johnny's  future.  He 
has  absolutely  no  head  for  math- 
ematics ;  and  to-day  the  principal 
of  the  school  told  me  that,  much 
as  he  disliked  to  say  it,  our  boy  was  scarcely  able  to 
compose  a  line  of  correct  English." 

Mr.  Lackwit  was  less  disturbed  at  the  news. 
"Let's  not  become  discouraged,  Maria,"  said  he. 
"Johnny  may  never  make  much  of  a  bank -president 
or  a  magazine  editor,  but  his  case  might  be  less  hope- 
ful. At  the  worst,  he  can  still  become  a  writer  of 
popular  songs." 


REVENGE. 
First  small  boy — "  I'm  groin'  ter  git  square  wid  pa  fer  lickin'  me  ter-day." 
Second  small  boy — "  How  yer  goin'  ter?" 
FiBST  SMAU^  BOY — "  When  de  circus  comes  along  I'm  goin'  ter  say  I  don't  care  ter  so." 


Their  Romance. 

|HEN  "  Romeo  and  Juliet " 

Together  they  read  through. 
It  seemed  she  was  a  Capulet 
And  he  a  Montague. 
And  every  story,  new  or  old, 

They  found  themselves  within— 
He  always  was  the  hero  bold 
And  she  the  heroine. 


I.    IF   SLANG    WERE    EXACT. 
"  Ah-ha.  Ferdinand  !    I  told  your  mother  you  were  playine  hookev  " 
Ferdinand-  ••  HuUy  gee  !   then  I'm  in  a ^  ^  ^  ^' 


"  N\Tien  Knighthood  Was  in  Flower' 

Was  Mary  Tudor  then, 
And  he,  with  Brandon's  chivalry, 

The  hero  once  again. 
By  turns  she  was  a  happy  maid, 

Or  damsel  all  forlorn  ; 
By  turns  he  was  a  dashing  blade 

Or  butt  of  some  one's  scorn. 

And  so  it  went,  their  smaU  romance- 
He  changed  from  slave  to  prince. 

And  she  from  grief  to  sunny  glance- 
But  that  was  long,  long  since. 

To-day  they,  married,  sit  and  read 
Within  their  inglenook 

He  to  his  bank-book  gives  his  heed 
And  she  to  "  How  To  Cook." ' 


-she 


0 


At  First  Sight. 

HE  lady  orator,  a  tall  and  angular  female,  was 
holding  forth  on  the  equality  of  the  sexes  and 
the  rights  of  woman. 

'■  Made  from  a  rib  !"  she  cried.  ••  It  is  a 
canard  devised  by  wicked  men.  Now,  do  I  look  as  if  I 
had  been  made  from  a  rib  ?  Do  I  ?  Can  anybody  sav  that 
I  was  .'  What  kind  of  a  rib  was  I  made  of  ?  I  pause  for  a 
reply,  if  there  be  one." 

Here  a  small,  unimportant-looking  man  rose  and  bowed 
and  said  gently, 

"  Yes'm  ;  I  think  you  was  made 
from  a  rib." 

•'  You  do  }"  she  retorted,  shak- 
ing a  lean  finger  in  his  direction  ; 
"you  do?  You  are  another  of 
the  men  who  wish  to  claim  credit 
for  everything,  are  you  ?  And  so 
you  think  I  was  made  from  the  rib 
of  a  man  .'" 

"  No'm,"  was  the  solemn 
.swer  ;  "  from  the  rib  of  an 
brella." 


Recognized  It. 


nHIS,"  smiled  the  fond  young  wife  as  she  passed 
a  plate  of  dessert   to  her  husband,  ■'  is  cottage 
pudding.     I  made  it  myself." 
The  man  tasted  of  it. 
"  I'd  have  known  it  was  cottage-pudding,"  he  asserted. 
"  You  would  ?"  she  asked,  deliglited. 
"Yes.     I  can    taste    the    plaster   and    the   wall-paper 
^\  hat  did   you  do  with  the  shingles  and   the   bricks  for 
the  chimney  ?" 


an- 
um- 


To  Be  Sure. 


« 


Yy^HAT    is    the     diflTerence," 
asked  the  inveterate  maker 
of  conundrums,  "  between  a  wo- 
man and  a  phonograph-factory  ?" 

"  Well,"  hazarded  the  obliging 
listener,  "the  output  of  a  phono- 
jraph-factory  is  meant  to  be  listen- 
ed to,  but  the  output  of  a  woman 
las  to  be  listened  to." 

"  No,"  was  the  gleeful  reply  of 
he  conundrum  fiend.    "  You  can't 
hut  up  the  woman,  but  you  can 
hut  down  the  factory." 
5 


2.    IF   SL.-VNG  WERE   EXACT. 
pickle !" 


A  Deduction. 
(( IF  life  began  at 
the  north  pole, 
as  our  eminent 
brother  asserts," 
said  the  first  scien- 
tist, "  what  conclu- 
sion would  you 
draw  from  that  ? 
What  effect  has 
that  had  on  our 
present-day  life  ?" 
"  Why,"  hazard- 
ed the  second  sci- 
entist, "  doesn't  it 
show  that  what  we 
have  hitherto  con- 
sidered the  pole- 
seeking  craze  is 
merely  an  instinc- 
tive manifestation 
of  homesickness?" 


■s^,. 


-?- 


'% 


Rather  Tame  to  Him. 

nHE  intrepid  explorer  has  reached  a  hitherto  unknown 
portion  of  India.  There  he  finds  an  obscure  tribe 
of  heathen,  who  are  holding  their  annual  festival 
of  the  Juggernaut.  Having  won  their  favor,  he  is  per- 
mitted to  witness  the  spectacle.  Noticing  that  he  seems 
to  feel  rather  a  small  interest  in  the  sight  of  the  victims 
being  crushed  beneath  the  huge  wheels  of  the  gaudily- 
bedecked  carriage,  the  chief  priest  says, 
-    "  Doesn't  the  exhibition  appeal  to  you,  sir  ?" 

"  In  a  way,  yes,"  responds  the  intrepid  explorer  ;    "  but 
you  see,  I  used  to  run  an  automobile  at  home." 

li/HEN  a  young  man  really  enjoys  hearing  his  best  girl 
practice  on  the  piano  that  is  true  love. 


Realistic. 

nHIS,"  said   the  dramatist,  who  was  elaborating   the 
scenario  of  his  new  play  to  the  manager,  "  is  to  be 
a  realistic  society  drama.     The   heroine  makes   a 
thrilling  entrance  in  an  auto." 

"  What  does  she  do  then  ?"  asked  the  manager. 
"  Why,  of  course  she  meets   the   hero  and   the  villain 
and  the  soubrette   and   the  rest,  and   the   play  goes   on  to 
the  usual  happy  ending." 

"  Well,  you  start  realistically  enough,  but  you  weaken 
on  your  finish." 

"  How's  that .'"  asked  the  puzzled  playwright. 
"  If  she's  going  to   come   in  on  an  auto  she  and  a  few 
of  the  rest  ought  to  make  their  exit  in  an  ambulance." 


At  the  Concert. 

Fosdick — "  \\'hy 
do  you  applaud 
such  a  long  and 
wearisome  compo- 
sition ?" 

Kecdick  —  "  I've 
been  sitting  still  so 
long  that  all  my 
limbs  have  gone  to 
sleep.  I  wish  to 
restore  the  circu- 
lation." 


(( 


HAVE  no- 
ticed," said 
Willie  Spanker, 
"  that  a  felt  slipper 
is  not  felt  so  much 
as  one  which  is  not 
felt  at  all." 


^^#7^ 


A   BARREL   OF   TROUBLE. 


Twiggy  Gets  Engaged 


By  W.  J.  B.  MOSES 


RMSTRONG  found  Twiggy 
— short  for  Van  Twilliger 
— alone  in  the  club  read- 
ing-room. 

"Hullo,  old  man! 
What's  the  matter?"  he 
asked,  for  Twiggy,  with 
his  hands  in  his  trouser 
pockets,  was  trying  to 
hide  his  head  in  his  col- 
lar, and  had  slipped  down 
in  his  chair  until  further 
slipping  was  impossible, 
while  an  expression  of  the  deepest  gloom  and  dejection 
overspread  his  ordinarily  pleasant,  if  not  too  intelligent, 
countenance. 

"  'Sthat  you,  Armstrong?"  he  murmured,  without 
looking  up. 

"Sure  it's  me,  old   man.     What's   the  bad  news? 

Cheer  up,  you  know;  it  mightn't  be  " 

"  Aw,  cut  it!"  said  Twiggy. 

"  And  if  it  is,  it's  probably  all  for  " 

"  Shut  up,  will  you?  It  ain't  anythin'  to  laugh  at  a 
man  about.     It  ain't  so  funny  as  you  think." 

"There,  there!"  said  Armstrong  soothingly,  and 
patted  the  wrathful  Twiggy  on  the  head,  as  if  he  had 
been  a  little  girl.  "There,  there!  Never  mind,  and 
tell  a  fellow  all  about  it.     That's  a  good  Twiggy." 

Mr.  Van  Twilliger   sulked  for   a  moment  and  then 
blurted  out  a  single  name. 
"  Miss  Goldendorn." 
"  Oh,  ho!"  said  Armstrong. 
Twiggy  grunted. 
"  Turned  you  down,  hey?"  asked  his  friend. 

Yep,"  said  Twiggy. 

"  Well,  you  never  took  it  so  hard  before,  as  far  as  I 

remember,  and  you're  a  man  of  a  good  deal  of  experience 

in  that  line,  too.     Cheer  up!     You'll  be  all  over  it  in  a 

day  or  so.     There's  as  good  fish  in  the  sea,  you  know,  as 

ever" 

"It  ain't  that." 
"Isn't  what?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  anythin'  particular  about  Gracie 
Goldendorn,  you  know.  I  ain't  heartbroken  or  nothin'. 
It  ain't  that." 

"What  is  it,  then?" 

Twiggy  heaved  a  deep  sigh  and  was  silent.  Arm- 
strong waited. 

"  Fact  is  I  got  to  be  engaged  next  week." 
"Got  to  be!     Great  Jerusalem!     Why?" 
Armstrong,  who  had  been  standing,  with  a  rather  in- 
definite notion  that  he  and  Twiggy  were  going  into  the 
smoking-room  in  a  minute,  now  pulled  a  chair  nearer  and 
seated  himself. 


"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  old  man,"  he  said. 

"  Guv'ner, "  grunted  Twiggy.  "  Said  he'd  cut  me  off 
'f  I  didn't  marry  'n'  settle  down.  No  more  'lowance. 
Time  limit.  Comes  down  on  me  next  week.  Told  him 
already  I  was  engaged;  wanted  t'  jolly  him  up.  Needed 
the  money.  Thought  I  could  depend  on  Gracie — blank 
little  flirt!     Got  to  show  credentials  next  week." 

Twiggy  relapsed  into  hopeless,  apathetic  silence. 

Armstrong  was  matching  his  fingers  and  thinking. 
He  knew  Van  Twilliger,  pater,  and  realized  the  full  seri- 
ousness of  his  friend's  position. 

"  Did  you  tell  him  it  was  Gracie  Goldendorn?" 

"Nope;  no  names." 

"  Maybe  you  could  find  some  one  else." 

"Me?     In  a  week?     Not  much!" 

"  If  I  were  in  your  place  I  think  I  could  manage  it," 
said  Armstrong.  He  did  not  wish  to  boast,  but  he  knew 
he  had  a  persuasive  way  with  him.     Twiggy  knew  it,  too. 

"  You?"  he  blurted  out.  "  Course  you  could;  but  I 
ain't  you." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Armstrong,  still  thoughtful,  "  that 
there  are  a  number  of  young  ladies  who  would  do.  I 
suppose  there  are  several  girls  in  Chicago  that  vou  had 
just  as  soon  marry  as  not,  aren't  there?" 

"Yes;  lots,"  said  Twiggy,  a  trifle  less  glumlv,.  for 
he  had  a  great  deal  of  confidence  in  Armstrong's  ability. 

"  Now,  hovv'd  it  be  if  you  were  to  make  out  a  list  of, 
say,  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  most  eligible,  and  make  a  regu- 
lar business  of  it?  Go  and  call  on  them  and  propose  in 
turn.  You  might  strike  one  who  had  a  secret  passion 
for  you,  you  know,  or  one  who  was  just  dying  to  get 
married,  or  one  who  thought  your  old  man's  money  looked 
too  good  to  pass  up,  you  know." 

"  Secret  passion  be  blowed  !"  said  Twiggy.  "Dyin' 
to  marry  be  blowed !  Mercenary  motives  be  blowed ! 
They  ain't  none  of  them  that  kind,  and  then  you  don't 
'predate  what  a  mess  I  make  of  anythin'  of  that  kind. 
Lord !     I  don't  believe  any  girl  will  ever  marry  me !" 

"  Suppose  you  write,  then,  if  you  can't  talk.  That 
might  do  just  as  well." 

"  No  good.     Writin'  's  worse  'n  talkin'." 

Armstrong  mused  in  silence  for  a  while. 

"  I've  got  it,  old  man !"  he  exclaimed,  after  a  minute, 
"  I've  got  it!  I'll  write  the  notes  for  you.  I'm  a  great 
hand  at  that  sort  of  a  thing.  You  tell  me  who,  and  I'll 
write  the  notes." 

"  Oh,  write  'em  to  any  one  you  like.  It's  no  good, 
anyway." 

Nevertheless,  Twiggy  sat  up  in  his  chair  and  pulled 
himself  together. 

Armstrong  moved  to  a  writing-table,  selected  some  of 
the  best  club  stationery  and  paused. 

"  See  here,  old  man,  you'll  have  to  give  me  the 
names,  you  know,"  he  said  seriously. 


WHAT  IMPUDENCE! 
Miss  Chic — "You  impudent  thing  I     The  idea  of  addressing  me  because  we 
were  raised  in  the  same  incubator  I" 

"  Oh,  just  write  to  any  of  the  girls  that  you  know  that 
I  know,"  said  Twiggy,  rising  and  coming  over  to  the 
table. 

Armstrong  dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink  and  paused 
again,  reflecting. 

"  I've  only  been  in  Chicago  two  years.  It  strikes  me 
that  in  a  case  of  this  kind  the  chances  would  be  better  if 
we'd  go  back  a  little.  The  girls  you've  been  calling  on 
and  dancing  with  lately  have  most  of  them  refused  to  be 
Mrs.  Twiggy,  once  or  twice  already.  They'll  think  you 
are  trying  to  jolly  them.  Can't  you  scare  up  a  few 
friends  of  your  youth  and  boyhood  that  would  do?  Some 
that  you  used  to  be  sweet  on,  you  know,  that  aren't  mar- 
ried yet.  Some  of  them  may  be  having  tender  memories 
about  you,  or  may  have  let  so  many  good  chances  slip 
since  that  they're  waiting  to  jump  at  the  next  one." 

"  Suppose  so,"  grunted  Twiggy. 

"  Well,  we  want  about  a  dozen  of  them.  Tell  me 
their  names,  what  they  look  like,  what  your  relations 
used  to  be,  and  I'll  do  the  rest.  First,  any  girls  you 
used  to  know  in  high  school  that  would  do." 

"  There's  Madge  Rhymer. "  ^ 

"What's  she  like?" 

"  Blue  eyes,  brown  hair,  red  cheeks. 
Father  keeps  a  grocery  store.  Nice 
girl,  though.    Old  man's  well  off,  too." 

"  Would  she  suit  your  father?" 

"Aw,  he  won't  kick  'bout  fortune, 
family  or  anythin',  's  long's  the  girlV- 
all  right." 

"  What's  Madge's  disposition?" 

"  Good-natured,  sentimental  sort. 
Thought  she'd  be  married  long  ago." 

"  Good!  I'll  say — sitting  lonesome 
in  the  club  reading-room — dreaming  of 
old  days — longing  for  a  home  of  your 


own — vision  of  blue-eyed,  red-cheeked  school- 
mate— have  never  forgotten — forgive  the  appar- 
ent suddenness,  but  feel — could  never  be  happy 
with  any  one  else." 

Armstrong  was  writing  as  he  talked. 
"Ain't  you  a  corker,   though!"  commented 
Twiggy  admiringly. 
"  Who's  next?" 

"  Well,  there's  Anna  Franklin.  Knew  her 
in  school,  too — mighty  fine  girl!  Haven't  seen 
her  for  years,  but  she's  governess  for  the 
Masons." 

"  Would  you  " began  Armstrong  gravely. 

"Hang  it,  yes!  Marry  any  one.  I  don't 
care.  She's  a  nice,  quiet,  bright  girl;  smooth, 
gray-looking,  shy  sort  of  a  person;  gray  eyes, 

light-brown  hair" 

"  I'll  bet  she's  bored  to  death  being  gov- 
erness. I'll  say — decided  that  it  was  time  to 
get  married — looking  over  all  my  past  acquaint- 
ances— know  no  woman  so  well  fitted  to  make  a 
home  for  a  man — I'll  bet  she's  longing  for  a 
home  of  her  own — nowadays — no  romaivtic  no- 
tions— should  be  sensible  and  intelligent  agree- 
ment— I'll  make  it  business-like,  you  know. 
That  ought  to  answer." 

And  then  he  went  on  to  a  third,  a  fourth,  a  fifth. 
Twiggy  cudgled  his  brain  to  think  of  pretty  girls  whom 
he  had  once  known,  but  who  had  rather  drifted  out  of 
his  life — girls  whose  whereabouts  in  the  city  he  knew, 
and  whom  he  was  sure  were  not  married.  At  last  the 
required  number,  an  even  dozen,  was  made  up,  and  Arm- 


THE  FUNNY  PHONY  DOG. 

"  What  do  you  call  your  dachshund,  Tommy?" 
'*  His  IVlaster's  Voice." 
"  How  did  you  come  to  name  him  that  ?" 

"  Pop  named  him,  'cause  his  shape  reminded  him  o'  the  phonograph  in  the  flat  right  over 
our  heads — thin  music  long  drawn  out." 


CONSPICUOUS. 
"  1  saw  you  on  the  boardwalk  this  moming." 
"  Did  you  ?     I'm  so  frightfully  tanned,  it's  a  wonder  you  knew  me." 

Strong  had  a  pile  of  brief,  masterly  love  letters  before 
him.  He  read  them  over  with  some  pride. 

"  Couldn't  'a'  done  better  'f  you'd  known  'em  all  your 
life  'n'  been  stuck  on  'em  yourself,"  was  Twiggy 's 
verdict 

"  If  they're  prompt,  as  they  should  be  in  such  a  seri- 
ous matter,  you'd  ought  to  have  all  the  replies  day  after 
to-morrow  morning.  I'll  come  up  to  your  room  then  and 
see  how  it  turns  out." 

Twiggy  became  suddenly  gloomy  again. 

"  Aw,  I  say,  it's  only  a  jolly,  you  know,  Armstrong. 
They'll  say,  '  Very  sorry,  much  obliged  for  the  honor, 
couldn't  think  of  it — that  sort  of  thing,  you  know." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  that.  It  seems  to  me  reason- 
able that  there  should  be  one  favorable  answer  out  of  a 
dozen,  and  one's  all  you  want." 

"  Lord,  yes!     I  don't  want  more  'n'  one." 

They  went  into  the  smoking-room  together  and  after- 
ward had  luncheon.  Twiggy  got  more  and  more  gloomy 
as  the  day  advanced.  He  had  painful  visions  of  his 
father's  anger  when  he  discovered  that  he  had  been  de- 
ceived in  the  matter  of  the  engagement.  It  was  all  up 
with  him,  he  declared  several  times,  and  wondered  what 
a  "  poor  feller"  like  him  could  do  "  for  a  livin'." 

Armstrong  tried  to  cheer  him  up,  but  not  very  suc- 
cessfully. The  next  day  Twiggy  was  still  deeper  in  the 
dumps  than  before.  He  talked  of  the  comparative  vir- 
tues of  laudanum  and  corrosive  sublimate.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  second  day  after  the  proposals  were  sent  off, 
Armstrong  went  early  to  his  friend's  rooms. 

Poor  Twiggy  was  slumped  down  in  a  big  chair,  the 
picture  of  acute  misery.  A  dozen  or  more  dainty  notes 
lay  in  a  pile  on  the  table  beside  him.  Some  of  them  were 
tinted,  some  exhaled  a  faint  perfume,  almost  all  of  them 
had  a  wafer  of  sealing  wax  on  the  flap. 

Armstrong  was  dismayed  when  he  looked  at  his 
friend's  face.     He  saw  at  once  that  his  scheme  had  been 


a  failure.  He  realized  what  it  meant  to  the  poor,  help- 
less beggar  to  be  turned  adrift  in  the  world  without  a 
dollar.  It  was  really  a  serious  matter.  He  wished  to 
speak  as  kindly  as  he  could,  but  he  could  not  restrain  an 
exclamation  of  surprise  at  first. 

"  What!     Not  a  single  acceptance  in  the  lot?" 

"  Aw,  that  ain't  it,"  groaned  Twiggy. 

"What!" 

"  They've  all  accepted." 

"What!" 

"  Yep;  'n'  that  ain't  the  worst." 

He  reached  out  his  hand  to  the  pile  of  letters  and 
selected  one  from  among  them. 

"  Note  from  Gracie.  Says  she's  changed  her  mind — 
awful  sorry — she  wants  to  marry  me,  too." 

"  Well,  at  any  rate  you're  engaged,"  said  Armstrong 
blankly. 

"  Engaged!"  muttered  Twiggy.  Engaged!  I  should 
say  I  was!" 

A  ray  of  hope  seemed  to  enter  his  breast.  He  gath- 
ered all  the  dainty  envelopes  in  one  hand  and  shook  them 
at  Armstrong. 

"  Yessir,  I'm  engaged,  'n'  lean  prove  it, "  he  shouted, 
as  if  addressing  an  irate  parent.  "  State  the  qualifica- 
tions, guv'ner,  'n'  I'll  satisfy  you.  Brown  hair,  black 
hair,  yellow  hair,  red  hair;  blue  eyes,  brown  eyes,  gray 
eyes,  green  eyes;  tall,  short  or  medium;  thin,  fat  or 
slender ;  pug  nose,  Roman  nose,  Hebrew  nose  or  Grecian 
— I  can  give  you  your  choice  in  daughters-in-law,  and 
don't  you  forget  it." 

Sindbad's  Luck. 

THERE  was  an  old  sailor  named  Sindbad, 
Who  was  used  to  find  currents  and  windbad; 
But  he  met  an  old  snide. 
Who  soon  broke  him  to  ride. 
And  his  shoulders  and  withers  got  skindbad. 

Yet  still  he  was  lucky,  this  Sindbad 

(Though  shoulders  and  withers  were  skindbad). 

Living  early,  he  missed 

Every  chance  to  enlist 
In  a  navy  whose  foods  were  all  tindbad.         s.  w.  c. 


•T^HERE  are  things  better  than  money  in  this  life,  but 
it  takes  money  to  buy  them. 


The  key  to  success  is  not  the  night-key. 


A  MISFIT. 
"  The  price  is  all  right,  but,  great  quacks!    they'd 
have  to  be  altered  a  lot  " 


Perennial. 

((I  SUPPOSE  Liz- 
zie Oletimer  is 
glad  it  is  leap-year," 
said  the  soft-spoken 
Heloise. 

"  I  don't  suppose 
it  makes  much  dif- 
ference to  her,"  re- 
plied the  mellow-, 
voiced  Irene.  "  She 
has  been  jumping  at 
every  chance  she 
saw  for  fifteen 
years." 

At  the  Minstrels. 

jlIMISTAH   JIN- 

*'^'  GLESNAP- 
PER,"  said  Mistah 
jchnsing,  "  I  has  er 
c'nund'um  fo'  yo' 
dis  ebenin'." 

"  Yo"  has  ?  Den,  suh,  tell 
me  what  hit  is." 

"What  am  de  diffunce 
eitween  a  drop-curtain  an' 
a  actoh  ?" 

"  Easy,  simple  !  De  cur- 
tain gits  a  roll  an'  de  actoh 
gits  a  r6le." 

"  No,  suh  ;  no,  suh  !" 

"  Den  what  is  de  dif- 
funce ?" 

"  De  actoh  in  his  time 
plays  many  pahts,  and  de 
curtain  in  its  time  pahts 
many  plays." 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  J. 
Roozlety  Flopper,  the  emi- 
nent contra-tenor,  arose  and 
sang  his  lovely  ballad, 
"The  moonshine  of  Ken- 
tucky is  the  sunshine  of  my 
life." 

Sure. 

(( C"IR,"  said  the  young 
housewife  to  the 
market-man,  "  is  this  good 
lard  ?" 

"  Yes,  mum." 

"  But  has  it  been  prop- 
erly tested  ?  I  read  in  the 
kitchen  department  of  the 
Ladies'  Fireside  He  I  per 
that  all  lard  should  be  sub- 
jected " 

"It's  all  right,  lady. 
We  try  every  pound  of  it 
before  we  sell  it." 


HAD   ALL   SHE  WANTED. 

Book-agent— "Mrs.  O'Toole.  I  have  here  a  little  work,  fully  illustrated" 

Mrs.  O'Toole — "  Well,  young  man,  Oi  hov  here  a  good  dale  av  wur-ruk,  fully 
illyshtrated,  be  th'  token.     Yez  kin  see  it  wid  yer  own  eyes,  so  be  aff  wid  yez !" 


Criticism. 

((  nATHER     ego- 
tistical,  don't 
you  think." 

"  Yes.  He  claims 
to  be  wedded  to  art, 
hut  he  seems  to  have 
an  impression  that 
he's  the  better  half." 

A  Real  Freak. 

jjTHE  armless 
wonder,"  said 
the  fat  lady,  "  is  a 
man  of  excellent 
traits.  He  has 
always  laid  aside 
half  of  his  earnings, 
and  now  he  has 
enough  money  to  re- 
tire on." 

"  Yes,"  comment- 
ed the  Circassian 
princess,  who  was  bleaching 
her  wig  preparatory  to  ac- 
cepting a  situation  as  an 
albino;  "I  have  always 
thought  the  armless  wonder 
was  forehanded." 

A  Natural  Mistake. 

THE  passenger  has  been 
*  lying  back  in  his  seat, 
half  dozing,  for  an  hour  or 
so,  when  the  train  slowly 
pulls  into  the  yards  at  the 
outskirts  of  the  great  city. 
Still  in  the  border-land  be- 
tween sleep  and  waking,  the 
passenger  looks  from  the 
window.  His  glance  falls 
upon  a  huge  freight  car  on 
a  siding.  One  look  at  the 
display  of  foot-high  letters 
on  the  freight-car  is  enough. 
The  passenger  fumbles  in 
his  pocket  and  yells, 

"  Here,    boy  !     bring    me 
one  o'  those  extras." 


<( 


HE   REPENTS. 
She — "  You  only  married  me  for  my  money." 
He — "  Serves   me  riglit  for  trying  to  buck  up  against  one  of 
those  get-rich-quick  games." 


TELL  you  that  new 
editor  is  a  hustler." 

"  Gels  the  news,  does 
he?" 

"Does  he?  Say,  last 
week  he  scored  three  scoops 
on  the  sewing-society,  one 
on  the  millinery-store, 
one  on  the  dressmakers, 
and  four  on  the  woman  who 
clerks  in  the  post-office." 


"The   Night  before   Christmas 


>9 


By  J.    W.  Foley 


ELEVEN   o'clock. 

AP,  rap,  rap. 

"  George,   is  that 
you?" 

"  Yes,  papa.  Say, 
is  itsixo'clock  yet?" 
"  No,  sir;  it  isn't 
six  o'clock,  or  twelve 
o'clock  yet.  What 
are  you  doing  out 
there  in  your  night- 
dress?" 

"  I    didn't     know 
but  maybe  it  was  six 
o'clock  and   I    could 
get  up.      I  ain't  a  little  bit  sleepy." 

"  Well,  you  go  right  back  to  bed  this  minute.  Santa 
Claus  hasn't  been  here  yet,  and  if  you  don't  go  to  bed 
he  won't  come  at  all." 

"  What  time  do  you  s'pose  he'll  come,  papa?" 
"  I  haven't  an  idea.     Maybe  two  or  three  o'clock." 
"  Can  I  get  up  at  six  o'clock  if  he  comes  and  goes 
away  before  that?     I  don't  believe  I'll  be  sleepy  then." 
"  You  can  get  up  as  soon  as  it's  daylight,  George. 
Now  go  back  to  bed  and  be  a  good  boy." 

TWELVE   o'clock. 

Rap,  rap,  rap. 

"  Say,  papa,  what  time  is  it?  Is  it  six  o'clock 
yet?" 

"Why,  George  Robinson,  it's  only  twelve  o'clock! 
What  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you?  Why  don't 
you  go  to  bed  and  sleep,  like  a  nice  boy?" 

"  Well,  I  ain't  sleepy,  that's  why.  How  soon  do  you 
s'pose  it  will  be  daylight?" 

"  Oh,  not  for  a  long  time  yet — three  or  four  or  five 
hours." 

"  I  wonder  how  soon  Santa  Claus'll  come?" 
"  Well,  he  won't  come  at  all  if  he  hears  you  prowling 
around  the  house.     Why  don't  you  stay  in  bed?" 

"  I  don't  know,  papa.      I  ain't  sleepy  to-night,  some- 
way.    Can't  I  come  in  your  room  and  sit  up  a  while?" 
"  No,  sir;  you  can't.     You  must 
go  right  to  bed  and  go  sound  asleep 
and  give  Santa  Claus  a  chance." 

"  Say,  papa,  will  you  be  sure  to 
wake  me  at  six  o'clock  if  I  should 
go  to  sleep?" 

"Yes;  we'll  wake  you  up.  Now 
run  to  bed." 

ONE  o'clock; 

Rap,  rap,  rap. 

"  Say,  papa,  is  it  six  o'clock 
yet?" 

"No:    it  isn't  six  o'clock.     It's 


only  one  o'clock,  and  here,  you  are  keeping  everybofly  ia 
the  house  awake." 

"  Say,  papa,  will  you  wake  mamma  up  and  tell  her 
I  can't  sleep?" 

"  George  Robinson,  you  go  right  back  to  bed  and  don't 
let  me  hear  from  you  again  till  daylight.  Your  mother 
is  tired  and  doesn't  want  to  be  waked  up." 

"  What's  that  noise  downstairs,  papa?  Is  that  Santa 
Claus?" 

"  There  isn't  any  noise  downstairs,  George.  You're 
dreaming." 

"  I  thought  sure  I  heard  somebody.  Did  you  or  mam- 
ma go  downstairs  for  anything?" 

"No,  sir;  wedidn't.  Buteither 
your  mamma  or  I  will  get  up  out 
of  this  bed  for  something  if  you 
don't  hustle  back  to  bed  and  go  to 
sleep." 

"  Papa,  I  ain't  a  bit  sleepy;  but 
if  I  should  go  to  sleep,  will  you  be 
sure  to  wake  me  at  six  o'clock  so  I 
can  go  down  and  look  at  my  things 
what  Santa  Claus  brought?" 

TWO  o'clock. 

Rap,  rap,  rap. 

"  Say,  papa,  is  it  six  o'clock 
yet?" 

"  George  Robinson,  you  go  back 
to  bed  without  another  word.  Such 
actions  I  never  heard  of." 

"  Say,  papa,  I  thought  I  heard 
somebody  coming  upstairs  again. 
Did  you  or  mamma  come  upstairs 
for  anything?" 

"  George  Robinson,  you  go  back 
to  bed!" 

"  Well,  did  anybody  come  up- 
stairs? It  sounded  awful  soft,  like 
tiptoes.  Do  you  suppose  it  was 
Santa  Claus?" 

"  George  Robinson,  in  another 
minute  I'm  coming  to  that  door,  and 
then  you'll  wish  you'd  gone  to  bed 
and  to  sleep,  like  a  nice  boy." 

"  I  ain't  sleepy,  papa,  that's 
why.  My!  it's  an  awful  long  night, 
ain't  it?" 

THREE   o'clock. 

Rap,  rap,  lap. 

"  Say,  papa,  is  it  six  o'clock 
yet?" 

"  George  Alexander  Robinson, 
if  I  hear  you  rap  at  that  door  again 
to-night,  you'll  not  get  a  single 
thing  to-morrow  that  Santa  Claus 
left  for  you." 


"Well,  I  can't  sleep,  papa,  that's 
why.  How  soon  will  it  be  daylight, 
do  you  s'pose?" 

"  George  Robinson,  you  go  back 
to  bed!" 

."  Can't  I  go  downstairs  in  the 
dining-room  and  get  a  drink?" 

"  You  get  a  drink  in  the  bath- 
room, and  then  go  straight  to  bed." 
FIVE  o'clock. 

Patter,  patter,  patter. 

"  George  Robinson,  is  that  you 
going  downstairs?" 

"  No,  sir;  I  was  just  going  down 
to    the    front    door    and    look    out 


and  see  if   it    was   daylight   yet." 
"  Well,  you  go  straight  back  to 

bed!" 

"  Well,  is  it  daylight  yet,  papa?" 
"  Did  you  hear  me  tell  you  to  go 

back  to  bed?" 

Patter,  patter,  patter. 
Silence. 

SEVEN  o'clock. 
Rap,  rap,  rap. 
"Say,  pop!" 

"  Is  that  you  again,  George?" 
"  Yes,  pop;  and,  say,  pop,  get  up 

quick  and  come  on  downstairs!    It's 

daylight!!!" 


.The  Distribution 

]^RS.  STILES  VAN  BROGKLIN,  whose  time  was 
divided  among  her  twelve  women's  clubs  and  away 
from  her  children,  took  an  off  day,  at  Christmas,  to  visit 
a  toy-shop  in  the  interest  of  her  six  offspring.  Loaded 
down  with  her  gaudy  purchases,  she  had  reached  her 
front  yard,  where  the  children  were  making  a  snowman, 
when  an  elegant  equipage  jingled  up  to  the  curb  and 
stopped. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  van  Brocklin!"  cried  a  lady  from  the 
coach,  "  come  with  me  to  the  Social  Problem  meeting." 

Exclaiming  that  she  had  forgotten  all  about  this 
meeting,  the  mother  quickly  approached  the  oldest  of 
the  children  about  the  snowman  and  pressed  the  toy 
packages  in  his  arm. 

"  Take  these  inside  and  distribute  them  among  your 
brothers  and  sisters,"  she  said;  and  the  next  moment 
she  was  whisked  away  in  the  friend's  coach. 


of  the  Toys. 

That  night,  when  she  returned  home,  she  was  struck 
by  the  surly  and  tear-stained  faces  of  her  children. 

"  Put  the  dears  right  to  bed,"  she  ordered  the  nurse, 
taking  in  the  situation  with  the  quickness  and  accuracy 
of  the  average  club  woman.  "  I  can  see  they're  tired 
out  and  sleepy  after  so  much  excitement  with  their  new 
toys." 

"  It  ain't  that,  ma'am,"  returned  nurse.    "  You  " 

"I  didn't  bring  them  just  what  each  wanted,  per- 
haps?    Well,  it's  hard  to  please  so  many  " 

"It  ain't  that,  either,  mum;  but  you  gave  all  the 
toys  to  the  boy  next  door!" 


Mr.  Tambo — ' 
dis  Cris'mus?" 
Miss  Sambo — ' 


A  NON-UNIONIST. 
Walking  delegate  (of  the  teamsters'  union) — "  Got  yer  union  card  ?  ' 


On  Her  Dignity. 

Is  yo'  gwine  ter  hangup  any  mistletoe 

'  'Deed  I  isn'.     I's  got  a  little  too  much 
pride  ter  advertise  fo'  de 
ordinary  co'tesies  dat   a 
lady  hab  a  right  ter  ex- 
pec'." 

A  Revised  Version. 

•  nnWAS   the  night  be- 

»     fore  Christmas,  and 

all  through  the  house 

Not  a  creature  was  stir- 
ring, not  even  a 
mouse. 

And  this  w-as  the  reason, 
my  dearest  Babette — 

The  house  was  a  new  one, 
and  wasn't  let  yet. 


The   Food  of 

Love — Canned. 

<i  |F  MUSIC  be  the  food 
»     of  love,  play  on." 
Aye,     play    till    every 
starveling   pair    be 
wedded. 
Sweet    phonograph,    or 
dulcet  gramophone, 
Pour  out  love's  break- 
fast food  in  rag-time, 
shredded. 


Henry's  Amusement. 

■mSSSIHAT  are  you  reading  that  tickles  you  so  ?" 
I  WWJ       asked  Mrs.  Penliecker. 

B  Ti  '■  "  Nothing   but  the   funny   column   in   the 

■  A  fl       paper,"  explained  her  husband. 

'  "  Let  me  see  it,"  said  the  wife,  taking  the 

sheet  from  his  liands.  Looking  over  it  carefully,  she  said, 
"  Why,  there  is  no  funny  column  in  this  paper.  This  page 
is  all  advertisements,  too,  except  one  item  of  news  which 


MISUNDERSTOOD. 
-ilUGSY — "Fer  two  cents  I'd  knock  yer  head  oft"!" 
_  Willy  Gudbov — "  I'm  sorry,  Mugsy,  but  I  haven't  got 
the  money — honest !" 


HOLIDAY  NOTES. 
Physical  culture  by   mail. 


tells  of  a  cruel  man  in  Wisconsin  who  compelled  his  wife 
to  shovel  snow  ofTthe  walks  all  one  morning." 

"I — I — I  was  just  laughing  over  the  advertisements," 
ventured  Penhecker.  "  I  was  thinking  how  glad  you 
would  be  to  see  so  many  bargains  offered.  I  had  not 
noticed  the  news  item  you  mention." 

But'when  he  could  not  tell  the  names  of  the  firms  pub- 
lishing the  advertisements  Mrs.  P.  fi.xed  him  with  a  bale- 
ful glare. 


A   CONSTANT   REMINDER. 
Mrs.  Jones — "If  I  should  die  would  you  ever  forget  me?" 
Mr.  Jones — "I  think  not.     The  doctor  says  my  dyspepsia  is  incurable.' 


Parliamentary  Ruling. 

■jpilE  said  he  could  not 
1 1  help  kissing  you," 
whispered  the  first 
congressman's  daughter. 
"  He  said  when  he  sat  be- 
side you  in  the  conservatory 
and  looked  into  your  eyes  he 
was  moved  by  an  irresisti- 
ble impulse  and  simply  had 
to  kiss  you." 

"  Did  he  ?"  smiled  the 
second  congressman's 
daughter,  who  was  listening 
with  some  interest  to  the 
apology  thus  being  made 
for  the  boldness  of  the 
handsome    cousin     of    the 


other 

girl- 

" 

Yes. 

He 

said  it 

was 

your 

eyes 

that 

won 

him. 

He"- 

"  Well,  he'll  have  to 
come  round  and  correct 
the  minutes  of  that  meeting. 
The  eyes  won  it,  but  the 
nose  got  it." 


THE  only  office  that  seeks 
the  man  is   that   of  the 
tax-collector. 


APROPOS  OF  MATCH-MAKING. 

The  lady  match — "Darling,  some  silly  people  say 
matches  are  made  in  a  factory." 

The  gent  match — "Sheer  nonsense,  dearest.  fF<- 
know  they  are  made  in  heaven,  don't  we?" 


Accurate. 

H^IR,"  says  the  Boston 
h^     reporter,  "  our  office 

' '    is  informed  that  your 

purse  was  stolen  from  you 
last  night.  Is  there  any- 
thing in  it  ?" 

"  Not  by  this  time, 
doubtless,"  answers  Mr. 
Emerson  Waldo  Beeneeter, 
relapsing  into  an  attitude  of 
perturbed  meditation. 

Of  Course. 

ItVES,"  said  the  starfish; 
*  "  I  am  going  on  the 
road  again  this  winter  with 
my  tank  drama." 

"That's  good,"  replied 
the  bass,  who  was  booked 
for  forty  weeks  in  grand 
opera.  "Who's  the  angel 
for  the  show  ?" 

"  Oh,  the  manager 
found  an  old  lobster  to 
stand  for  the  bills." 


VIRTUE  that  is  made  of 
necessity  cannot  be 
expected  to  outlast  the 
material. 


A  BLESSING. 
First  policeman — "Sergeant  Cahill  says  thot  thim  automobiles  do  be  a  great  blessin'." 
Second  policeman — "Whoy  wudn't  he?     He's  bin  promoted  twoice  fer  slitoppiu'  runaway  harses  sheared  be  automobiles.' 


r^ 


Gone*  but  Not  Forgotten 


By  A.  B.  Lewis. 


THE  RURAL  mail- 
carrier  looked  at  his 
watch  and  saw  that 
he  had  some  time  to  spare, 
and  he  drew  up  at  the 
gate  of  a  farmhouse,  in 
front  of  which  sat  an  old 
farmer  smoking  a  corn- 
cob pipe  and  wearing  a 
sad  expression  on  his 
face. 

"  I  suppose,  Bill,  you're 
mighty  glad  the  summer 
boarders  have  all  gone," 
remarked  the  carrier  as 
he  settled  back  in  his 
cart. 

"  Wa-al,  I  dunno  'bout 
thet, "  was  the  reply. 
"You  don't?     Why,  it 
always  struck  me  you  was  mighty  glad  to  get  them  city 
folks  off  the  farm." 

"  Yep;  I — I  reckon  I  wuz. " 

"  Only  last  spring  you  was  tellin'  how  they  broke 
down  fences,  ruined  apple  trees,  and  smashed  croquet 
mallets." 

"  Yep;  them's  the  very  words  I  used." 
"  And  yet  you  ain't  glad  they've  gone,  eh?" 
"  Wa-al,  no,  Tom;  I  somehow  ain't.     It's  bin  mighty 
lonesome  since  they  went,  to  tell  the  truth." 
"Lonesome?     You  dont' mean  it!" 
"  Yep.     We  never  had  no  sich  summer  boarders 
afore,  as  I  kin  remember.    There  wuz  thet  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Blankley  from  Brooklyn.    By  gum !  but  the 
way  she  tore  into  him  mornin',  noon  an'  night  kept 
us  so  excited  thet  the  time  fairly  flew.     Then  there 
wuz  thet  young  couple  from  Staten  Island.      They 
spooned  so  much  they  didn't  hear  the  dinner-bell 
half  the  time.     Gosh!  but  they  wuz  a  circus,    an' 
I  bet  I  got  forty  meals  the  best  of  'em.      They 
wuz  so  much  in  love  they  couldn't  eat.     An'  the 
widder  from  Nyack,  who  set  her  cap  fer  a  feller 
from  Yonkers.     By  gum !  but  she  kept  me  an'  the 
old  woman  laughin'  till   we    could   hardly   do   our 
work." 

"  Did  she  git  him.  Bill?" 

"  She  landed  hitn,  Tom,  a  day  or  two  afore  he 
went,  an'  she  wuz  so  tickled  thet  she  had  the  blind 
staggers,  an'  we  had  to  rub  her  temples  with  hoss- 
linament. " 

"Many  scraps  among  the  boarders  this  year. 
Bill?" 

"  Scraps  or  sunthin'  else  goin'  on  all  the  time, 
an'  I  never  put  in  sich  a  grand  summer.  By  gum ! 
you  orter  bin  here  the  day  the  feller  from  Hobo- 
ken  thrashed  the  feller  from  Albany  in  a  game  o' 
croquet.     I  let  a  hull  day's  plowin'  go  an'   hung 


here 


around,  expectin'  'em  to  go  at  it  ag'in;  but  the  Albany 
feller  had  had  all  he  wanted.  I  put  two  dollars  on  his 
board-bill  to  pay  me  fer  the  time  I  lost.  Do  you  s'pose, 
Tom,  I  could  keep  winter  boarders?" 

"  No.  Them  city  folks  is  too  blamed  busy  sellin' 
gold-bricks  in  winter  to  think  about  their  health." 

"Yep;  I  s'pose  they  be.  Wa-al,  I'll  hev  to  go  out 
an'  pick  a  fuss  with  the  hired  man,  or  I'll  git  so  blue 
I'll  sell  the  farm  an'  move  to  the  city.  Snakes!  but  I'd 
give  a  hull  dollar  to  see  a  circus." 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Bill,"  said  the  rural  mail-carrier  as 
he  took  up  the  reins  again. 

"  Good-bye  to  you,  Tom.  If  you  meet  any  one  thet  is 
lookin'  fer  a  farm  cheap  you  might  send  him  around." 

"  Oh,  cheer  up.  Bill,  and  you'll  be  all  right  in  a  day 
or  two." 

But  a  tear  trickled  down  the  old  farmer's  face  as  he 
arose  and  started  toward  the  barn. 

V 

A  Bumper  Crop. 

<t  VTA-AS,"  said  the  man  from  southern  Kansas,  "I 
reckon  that  year  was  what  you  might  call  a 
banner  year  with  a  bumper  wheat  crop.  W'y,  do  yu 
know  that  Sile  Edwards — neighbor  o'  mine,  Sile  was — 
had  sich  a  stand  o'  wheat  on  a  ten-acre  field  o'  his'n  that 
he  had  t'  rent  th'  field  next  t'  'im  t'  shock  about  half  of 
it — wasn't  room  fer  th'  shocks  on  th'  ground  it  growed 
on." 

Government  Heads. 

Knicko — "  Nature  abhors  a  vacuum." 
Bocket — "  But  folks  seldom  discover  it  till  it  is  in 
the  dinner  pail." 


Misj  Broiler—"  I 
stop  her  loud  clucking. 


SLEEPER    TROUBLES, 
say,  porter,  kindly  ask  that  old  hen  iu  the  upper  berdi  to 


1  can't  get  a  wink  of  sleep.  " 


One  Way  To  Do  It. 

ilXHE  problem  is  this," 
said  the  teacher.  "  I 
have  fifteen  apples,  which  I 
am  to  divide  among  twelve 
boys.  Now,  how  shall  I 
distribute  the  apples  ?" 

After  considerable  chew- 
ing of  pencils  and  scratch- 
ing of  paper  the  little  Wise 
boy    raised    his    hand. 

"  Well,  Johnny  ?" 

"Youshould  giveoneap- 
ple  to  three-fifths  of  a  boy." 


War  as  It  May  Be. 

trt 

r 


(Extract  from  "With  Neither  Side 
in  the  Late  War.'*) 


(< 


JONES  WON   THE  TURKEY,    BUT   H.YD   TO   TAKE   HOME  QUITE  A 


•LO.\D.' 


T  was  in  the  thickest  of 
the  battle  when  the 
captain's  hoarse  order  rang 
out,  '  Repel  boarders  !' 

"  Instantly,  with  that 
trained  precision  found  in 
no  other  navy,  each  sailor 
advanced  and  offered  the 
enemy  a  plate  of  hash." 


Domestic  Tribulations  at  the  Zoo. 

Mrs.  Monkey — "  I   wish  you'd    drop  in   and   see    our 
milkman,  Charlie,  and  give  him  a  good  calling  down." 
Mr.  Monkey — "  Why,  what's  the  matter  now  ?" 
Mrs.  Monkey — "  I  told   him   to   leave  three  cocoanuts 
this  morning,  and  he  only  left  two,  and  one  of  them  was 
only  half  full." 


Logic. 

nETWEEN   the  acts,   like 
^^  other  men, 

He  stole  away  a  while, 
And   when   he   came  to  her 
again 
His    face   betrayed    the 
"smile." 

"  No  one  will  know,"  he  softly 
said 
(A  foolish  thing  to  say) ; 
"  For  every  time  you  turn  your 
head 
It    takes    my    breath 
away. " 

A  Polite  Reply. 

((  pvON'T  you  think  Miss 
Squairface  ought  to 
take  more  beauty-sleeps  ?" 
asked  the  dearest  friend  of 
Miss  Squairface. 

"  Well,"  answered  the 
young  man  who  was  trying 
to  make  an  impression  on 
the  dearest  friend,  "possibly 
she  suffers  from  insomnia." 


A  Mining  Boom. 

((  /^REAT  activity  in  Idunno  mining  stock  to-day  !" 
^^        "  You  don't  say  so  !" 

"  Ye-ah.  Bill  Sykes  took  forty  thousand  shares  and 
eight  dollars  cash  for  that  horse  he  was  askin'  twenty  dol- 
lars for  yesterday." 

"  Well,  he  made  eight  dollars  on  the  deal,  any  way." 


ITS   PECULIARITY. 
"  My  !  what  a  peculiar  style  of  riding  V' 
"  Ya-as  ;   I  s'pose  it  does  seem  peculiali 
ter  people  wot's  neber  rid  enny  ob  dese  razor- 
back  bosses." 


6a^^-^«-*^^^ 


Her  Song. 

HEN  I  the  togs  hang  on  the 

line, 
And   see   through    fogs   blue 

skies  that  shine, 

I  wash  the  shirt.   I  wash  the 

cuff; 
I  wash  the  skirt,  I  wash  the 

ruff. 

And  wliile  I  wash,  alert,  elate, 
I  holler  "bosh"  and  "scat" 
at  fate. 

And   sing   a  prime  old  song 

that's  sweet 
While  keeping  time  with  both 

my  feet. 


^  EVERY  man  thinks  every 

w%  other  man  has  his  price. 

Fully  Qualified. 

Ij  AND,"  says  the   plutocrat  who  is   engaging  his  corps 
of  servants,  "  you  say  you  would  hke  a  situation  as 

chauffeur  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answers  the  applicant. 

"Well,  did  you  ever  run  an  automobile  ?" 

"  No,  sir  ;    but  I  was  a  mule-teamster  in  the  army  for 

lour  years." 


liMPOSSIBLE. 
"Can  ycu  spare  a  poor  man  a  cent?" 
"  No  ;  1  am  an  artist." 


VERY    FUNNY. 
Knockabout  comedian  [on  the  ground) — "  Say,  old  man  !  cut  that  out.     You're  altogether  too  strenuous,  and  the 
audience  might  call  for  an  encore." 


VERY  DEEP. 
"  So  that  quiet  chap  is  in  love  with  Dolly  ?     Well,  they  say  still  waters  run  deep." 
"  Oh,  yes.     She's  got  into  him  deeper  than  any  chap  she  ever  met." 


m 


IN  THE  FUTURE. 
"  Are  we  near  the  earth,  captain?" 
"  Oh,  no  ;  we  have  only  reached  the  roof 
of  the  rolling-pin  building." 


The  Explanation. 

E  IS  one  of  the  nouveaux  riches." 

"  Is  he  ?     I   thought  he  was   a  European  nobleman  of  a  very 
old  family." 
"  That's  it^didn't  have  a  cent  until  he  got  married." 

Sold  Himself. 

Firsi  citizen  (indignantly) — "  I   am  surprised   that  young  Longhead 
would  lend  himself  to  any  such  scheme." 

Second  citizen — "  Lend  himself  ?"     Why,  man  !  he  was  bouo-ht." 

Disqualified. 

(( VOU  will  never 
make  a  reliable 
reporter." 

"  Why  not,  sir  ?" 

"  You  never  told 
the  calibre  of  the  re- 
volver used  in  that 
murder  story  you 
wrote  up  yesterday. "j 

The  Idea! 

Bachelor  (crusti- 
ly)—  "The  worst 
about  marriage  is  that 
when  a  fellow  pro- 
poses it  is  generally  a 
plunge  in  the  dark." 

Justwed —  "  Great 
heavens  !  you  would- 
n't have  a  fellow  pro- 
pose when  the  gas  is 
going  full  tilt,  would 
you  ?" 


(< 


Just  So. 

SAY,  pa  !" 
14    1 


Uh  ?" 

"Pa,  what  is  mince- 
meat ?" 

"  A  sort  of  gastro- 
nomical  merger,  my 
son." 


1 


Better  Yet. 

E  SEE  Pipes,  the  plumber,  sitting  in  deep  meditation,  a  con- 
tented smile  hovering  upon  his  face. 

"  Ah  !"  we  venture  gayly,  "  building  air-castles  ?" 
Better'n  that,"  he  tells  us.     "  Plumbing  them." 


An  Old  Story. 

The  clergyman — "  Yo'  mus'  be  nigh  ninety-si.x,  auntie,  an'  yo' 
prob'Iy  ain't  got  long  ter  lib  " 

Auntie  Black — "  Good  Lawd  !  Yo'  done  tol'  me  dat  w'en  I  was 
only  eighty." 

The  Benefit  of  a  Doubt. 

Maude — "  I  wonder  if  it  is  really  so  that  Agnes  is  engaged  ?" 
Anne — "  Well,  I  sha'n't  believe   it  till   I   see   it  denied   in    the 
papers." 


UNNECESSARY   EFFORTS. 

Keegan — "  Old  man  Rafferty  near  had  a  fit 
whin  he  heard  his  darter  an'  young  Rooney  had  bin 
married  fer  5i.x  months." 

Regan — "Cud  yez  blame  him?  There  \,^'A 
bin  treatin'  th'  young  blackguard  loike  a  gintlemon 
fer  six  mont's,  jist  thryin'  to  git  him  into  th'  family." 


>  o 


> 


c  o. 

bo  , 


s    ■:: 


'-    '^    -fcj 


^  So 


«    3  - 


X     fc-      ^   TO 


Hardihood. 

[rSSTlILD   and    fiercely    raged 
k  A  J       ^^^  tempest, 
1==^  Man  and  creature  trem- 
bled mute  ; 
While    my    chimney,     never 
blaiicluDg, 
Toi)k  that  time  to  clean  its 
soot. 

There  Are  Others. 

««li/HAT  kind   of  a  chap 

"     is  he  ?'■ 

"  Oh,  his  conversation 
consists  of  twenty-eight  dol- 
lars' worth  of  talking-  to 
every  nickel's  worth  of  horse 
sense." 

Mutually  Struck. 

Sinker — "  Did  you  make 
a  hit  with  the  girl's  father?" 

Draiuun—'''D\A\  ?  Well, 
I  should  say  I  did  !  He 
struck  me  for  a  loan  the 
first  thing." 


OVERHEARD   AT   HUNTINGTON. 

Mr.  Bottle — "Come  on  !     Let 's  run  a  race." 
Jug  of  molasses — "  Oh.  no,  thank  you  ;   I  don't 
in  cold  weather." 


Complying  with 

His  Request. 

SwSlARK  me  well  !" 
liil  "Sure!"  obliging- 
ly replied  the  re- 
formed pirate  who  was  do- 
ing the  job.  "  I'll  tatoo 
'  Cured  by  Bowersock's  bit. 
ters  '  on  your  back." 


(( 


well 


More  Descriptive. 

C"0  YOU  are  keeping  an 
intelligence-office,  I 
hear." 

"  I  call  it  a  '  servants'  ex- 
change.' Seems  more  de- 
scriptive." 

Scientific  Note. 

IN  Germany  there  was  a  heifei 
*     That  ate  some  luscious  has. 
senpfeifer. 

The  rest  is  queer  ; 

It  spoiled  her  ear — 
Indeed,  it  made  the  heifer  deifei 


TRUE  CHARITY. 

Mr.  Jones — "  Are  you  a  professional  beggar?" 
Mendicant  {hopefully) — "  No,  sir  ;  I  am  not." 
Mr.  Jones — "  Then  I  won't  give  you  anything,  for  fear  of  making  you  one." 


y 


i 

o 

3. 

.£  " 
3  6 
"o-o 

'-! 

3-0 

c  .5 

3    „ 


K    = 


o-g 


3-0 


■s  I 

"^•^ 

91 

I  ^ 

tn  O 

2  « 

li 


ss 


The  Peels. 

ppBTlITH  majestic  grace 
Lai  ^^^  stately  ship 
cleft  her  way- 
through  the  fog.  All,  in- 
deed, was  light  and  hap- 
piness aboard.  Suddenly 
peel  after  peel  rent  the 
air.  Swiftly  a  tug  came 
to  her  side  and  hailed. 

"  Do  you  need  assist- 
ance ?"  asked  the  cap- 
tain of  the  tug. 

"  No,"  answered  the 
captain  of  the  steamer. 
"  It's  only  these  country 
excursionists  "throwing 
their  banana-peels  over- 
brard." 


CRACKING  NUTS  WHILE  UNCLE  TERRY  PLAYS  THE  FIDDLE. 


An  "L"  Incident. 

Y  JOVE!"  said 
the  excited  pas- 
senger, "  there's 
a  vacant  seat  in  the 
ne.Kt  car."  And  jump- 
ing to  his  feet,  he  would 
have  dashed  madly 
forward  had  not  his 
friend  grasped  his 
arm. 

"  What's  the  matter  ? 
Haven't  we  seats  al- 
ready ?" 

"  So  we  have  !"  said 
the  first  passenger,  sink- 
ing back.  "  Upon  my 
word,  it's  so  unusual  I 
didn't  realize  it." 


WHAT  THE  CARDS  PREDICTED. 
Muriel—"  Next  summer,  dear,  you  will  take  a  long  journey  abroad  and  become  engaged  to  a  tall,  fair  man  with  heaps  oi 
money." 

MiLLiCENT — "  Une !     That  will  just  suit  me  to  a  t." 

Muriel — "But  the  next  card  says  that  a  dark  man  will  come  along  and  cross  your  t." 


THE  MODERN  LOVE-LETTER. 
"  I've  brought  your  letters  back.     Where  are -mine  ?  " 

"They  are  in  my  safety-deposit  vault  at  the  bank.     I  regard  them  as  my  share  of  the  assets  of  our  joint  enterprise  thus 
far,  and  shall  keep  them.     You  know,  love-letters  are  often  equivalent  to  gilt-edged  securities  in  these  times." 


-tC-^^ 


BT    "W.    D.    NESBIT.  iLLtTSTHATED    BT    C.    J.    TAYLOB. 


OW,  there  was  once  a  plain, 
common,  every-day  sort 
of  a  man  who  owned  a 
nice  tract  of  land,  with  a 
mountain  in  the  centre, 
and  he  conceived  the  idea 
that  it  would  be  a  good 
place  for  a  summer  hotel. 
So  he  built  one. 
'     -       ''    ''^  After  it  was  finished  he 

•  ■  •>  was  not    altogether  satis- 

fied with  it. 
While  the  scenic  surroundings  were  beautiful  and 
good  to  see,  there  seemed  to  be  something  lacking. 
Some  way  or  other,  the  general  arrangement  of  things 
was  not  what  it  should  be  ;  so  he  sent  up  to  the  city 
and  hired  a  professional  landscape  artist  at  one  hun- 
dred dollars  a  day  to  come  down  and  see  what  could 
be  done. 

The  professional   landscape   artist    came   in    good 
time  and  spent  two  or  three  days  meandering  over  the 
mountain-side  and  through  the  valley.      He  would  go 
away  about  two  miles  and 
squint  at  things  through  a 
pair   of    field-glasses,    then 
make    copious    notes    in    a 
iainty  little  red  book. 

When  he  had  finished 
his  observations  he  called 
the  plain,  common  every- 
day man  to  his  side  and 
said, 

' '  Now,  you  see,  your 
hotel  is  magnificent.  It  has 
a  noble  style  of  architecture 
and  is  wonderfully  well  ar- 
ranged. " 


'THE   MOUNTAIN   WAS    UNDERMINED. 


IT  S    ALL   PRETTY,    PAW,'   SAID   HIS   WIFE, 


"Yes,  sir," 
said  the  plain, 
common  per- 
son. 

"  But  it  lacks 
the  surroundings 
it  should  have. 
Now,  I  have 
been  looking 
about,  and  on 
the  other  side  of 
the  mountain  I 
find  a  beautiful 
lake  and  a  rip- 
pling   waterfall  ; 

also  a  number  of  majestic  foliage-trees.  What  you 
will  have  to  do  is  to  tunnel  under  the  mountain  and 
put  in  staging  to  support  it  until  you  can  install  a 
pivot  right  under  its  centre.  This  pivot  we  will  con- 
nect with  a  pulley  system  and  set  up  an  immense 
engine  off  to  the  west  of  the  hotel.  When  all  is  ready 
we  will   turn   on  the  power   and  gradually  whirl   the 

mountain  around  until  the 
lake  and  the  waterfall  and 
the  majestic  foliage-trees 
face  your  hotel.  Then  you 
will  have  the  greatest  place 
in  the  country." 

"You  know  your  busi- 
ness," said  the  plain  person. 
who  had  4he  money. 

So  they  went  ahead,  and 
at  the  end  of  a  couple  of 
years  the  mountain  had 
been  undermined,  jacked 
up,  pivoted,  and  turned 
successfully.     It  was  indeed 


:«     &     :«     :«     :« 

a  marvelous  change,  and 
the  new  resort  became  im- 
mensely popular. 

One  evening  the  plain, 
common,  ever}'-day  per- 
son sat  with  his  wife, 
talking  of  what  had  been 
done  and  rejoicing  that 
at  last  the  hotel  was  sur- 
rounded by  the  right  kind 
of  scenery. 

"It's  all  pretty,  paw," 
said  his  wife;  "but  it 
seemed  to  me  all  along 
that  there  was  a  much  bet- 
ter way  than  that  land- 
scape feller  thought  up." 


The   Wonders 
of  Science. 

IT  WAS  a  beau- 
teous summer 

night.  The 
bride  and  groom 
sat  on  the  deck  of 
the  ship,  afar  on 
the  bosom  of  the 
blue  Atlantic,  on 
their  way  to  the 
Riviera,  or  some 
other  place  with 
an  unpronounce- 
able name.  Ten- 
derly she  gazed 
at  the  brilliant 
stars  that  blazed 
through  the  en- 
trancing hue  of 
the  night  sky. 

"  Is  it  not  won- 
derful?" she  mus- 
ed. "Just  to 
think,  all  those 
stars  shining  and 
shining  and  shin- 
ing there  through 
all  the  ages." 

"It's  very  fine," 
agreed  the  practi- 
cal bridegroom. 

"And  that 
gauzy  band  across 
the  heavens,"  she 
murmured  in  girl- 
graduatish  a  c  - 
cents;  "that 
filmy     fleece     of 


HORSE    SENSE    VS.    SCIENCE 


"  FIRED   THE   CLERK." 


SAVED   AGAIN. 


Mr.  Mouse  {io  Mrs.  Mouse)- 
one  of  those  traps  !     I  must 


'  My  dear  girl,  how  foolish  of  you  to  get  caught  in 


-get  this  log  of  wood  and  drop  it  on  the  spring,  and  have  you 


Si     '^.     s     ^.      ^ 

"  Oh,  he  knew  his 
business,  maw.  There's 
no  use  talking  —  them 
fellows  knows  what  they're 
doin'." 

"  I  know  ;  but  I  kind 
o'  thought  it  would  have 
been  some  quicker,  any- 
how, if  we  had  •  put  the 
hotel  on  rollers  and  moved 
it  around  to  the  other 
side  of  the  mountain." 

And  the  plain,  com- 
mon, every-day  person 
went  into  the  hotel  and 
fired  the  clerk  just  because 
he  was  a  college  graduate. 


star-dust  which 
we  mortals  know 
as  the  milky  way  ! 
I  wonder  how  it 
has  been  preserv- 
ed in  all  its  gos- 
samer  purity 
through  all  the 
centuries  that 
have  gone  ?" 

Knowing  that 
this  was  a  time 
for  him  to  show 
his  complete 
knowledge,  the 
young  husband 
ventured,  "  May- 
be they  use  for- 
maldehyde." 

Invidious. 

Madge  —  "  He 
tried  to  kiss  me, 
although  we  are 
not  engaged." 

Dolly— "Whay 
made  him  think 
he  could  do  it  ?" 

Madge —  "  1 
suppose  it  was 
because  he  has 
been  in  the  habit 
ofcallingonyou." 


-out  of  that.' 


IF  a  married 
man  admits 
he's  a  fool  it  is 
his  wife's  duty  to 
agree  with  him. 


He  Denounced  It. 

IS  requested,"  said  Parson  Blackberry 
while  informing-  his  flock  of  future 
services  to  be  held  ;  "  I  is  fuddehmo' 
requested  to  denounce  de  ingagement 
ob  Miss  Lily  Petunia  Robison  an'  Mis- 
tah  Jeems  Amalgamated  Tompson. 
De  noose  will  be  tied  in  dis  hyer  build- 
in'  nex'  Friday  ebenin',  weddah  puh- 
mittin'.  It  wah  de  intentions  at  de  fust 
staht-off  ter  hab  er  'possum  weddin'- 
dinnah  in  conclusion  ter  de  suspicious 
affaih,  but  de  despective  bridegroom 
hab  concluded  dat,  owin'  ter  de  solem- 
nitous   nature  ob  de   'casion,   hit'U   be 


RIGHT   IN   IT. 
Miss  Cod — "  I  do  so  admire  tall  men  !" 
Mr.  Crab — "I  am  a  six-footer  myself,  Miss  Cod.' 


bes'  fo'  me  ter  denounce  dat  dere  will  be  no  sup- 
pah  ner  dinnah,  as  fust  'spected.  I's  shuah  de 
con'gation  jines  me  in  'stendin'  precipitations  ter 
dis  lovin'  couple  an'  wishin'  dem  many  happy  re- 
tuhns  ob  de  day." 

Honor  to  Whom  Honor  Is  Due. 

<(  A'ND  now,  gentlemen,"  says  the  chairman  of 
the  committee  on  awards  at  the  millinery 
exhibition,  "  the  question  before  us  is  to  whom  shall 
the  chief  prize  go.  Of  the  many  pattern-bonnets 
submitted,  that  of  Miss  Meekleigh  is  far  and  away 
the  most  artistic." 

"  But,"  protests  a  more  experienced  member, 
"  the  bonnet  exhibited  by  Madame  Sokkettuum  is 
far  and  away  the  most  expensive." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  medal  was  pinned  on 
Madame  Sokkettuum. 


A   COMPLAINT. 
Ant — "  Say,  Farmer  Rabbit,  who  gave  you  permission  to  plant 
potatoes  right  on  our  main  street?" 


((  HE  S  a  very  distinguished  actor,  I  am  told." 
"  No  ;  not  an  actor — a  star." 


SO   IT   APPEARED. 
'Say,  mister,  your  head  is  upside  down  !" 


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A  Suggestion. 

IF  ON  some  resolu- 
'        tion  strong 
You    now    would 
have    your    na- 
ture bent. 
Refrain  from  making 
that  old  joke 
About      umbrellas 
keeping  lent. 

As  It  Sounds. 

Mrs.  Newricli— 
"  Marie's  trip  a- 
broad  has  given  her 
quite  a  smattering 
of  French." 

Mr .  Newrich 
(disgustedly)  _ 
"Quitea  sputtering 
I  should  call  it." 

Their  Identity. 

Inquisitive  party 
— "What are  those 
peculiar-looking 
things  ?" 

Dealer — "Press- 
ed family  skeletons 
tor  the  closets  of 
flat-dwellers." 


Don't. 

IN  THE  town's  big 
business  battle, 
In    the    bargain, 
sales  of  life, 
Be    not    like   dumb," 
driven  cattle, 
Don't  go  shopping 
with  your  wife. 


THE   Pathfinder 
paused   in   the 
trail. 

"  This  is  easy  !" 
hee.xclaimed,  "but 
suppose  Fenimore 
Cooper  had  made 
me  find  my  way  in 

New  York  " 

Shuddering  at 
the  thought,  he 
hastened  on,  wish- 
ing only  that  he 
had  been  provided 
with  rubber  heels 
instead  of  leather 
stockings. 


Professor  Rhinoceros- 
extinguisher  ?" 


ABSENT-MIN-DED.  jUIVER  lick  a  fel- 

'  Now,  what  in  thunder  can  I  have  done  with  that  candle-  '>'    'hot's  big. 

ger  'n  you,  me  b'y. 


ANOTHER   \aCTIM. 

r'^K^v^,^Z"'^°T '!^;~.l'  ^ T°"  '"-'■  ^^^  'iterature  brought  you  here  ?     What  made  you  read  it  ?" 
t-ONA  ICT—  •  I  didn  t— I  wrote  it.     I  wuz  a  poet  an'  had  ler  steal  ter  keep  from  starvin'." 


Downright  Abuse. 

I'VE  sure  been  called  a  lot  of  things 
Since  I've  been  fooling  'round  on  earth; 
They've  even  called  me  names,  b'  jings! 

■That  cast  reflections  on  my  birth. 
They've     called      me     "grafter,"     "snide,"     and 
"  crook" — 
Yea,  they  have  named  me  worse  than  that; 
But  here  comes  some  man  with  a  book 
That  calls  me  "  proletariat  "  ! 

Now,  I  have  lived  the  best  I  could — 

I've  paid  my  debts  when  necessary; 
I've  been,  I  reckon,  average  good 

For  one  so  human  and  contrary. 
But  all  my  effort  in  the  line 

Of  keeping  straight,  and  all  of  that, 
Is  wasted ;  and  my  eyes  run  brine. 

If  I'm  a  "  proletariat  "  ! 

I  don't  know  what  the  word  can  mean, 

And,  tell  the  truth,  I'm  scared  to  learn. 
Far  as  I  know  I've  never  seen 

A  sample,  and  don't  care  a  durn 
If  I  should  waste  the  brief  remains 

Of  what  short  time  I  have  at  bat 
Without  once  getting  through  my  brains 

The  sense  of  "  proletariat." 

Yet  while  I  live  and  have  my  health 

I'd  have  the  whole  world  understand 
That,  though  I've  neither  fame  nor  wealth, 

There's  none  that  dares  to  lift  his  hand 
And  swear  that  I,  peace-loving  man 

That  tries  to  side-step  family  spats. 
Could  e'er  be  listed  with  the  clan 

That's  labeled  "  proletariats. "         s.  w.  gillilah. 

To  Be  Eaten. 

Missionary — "  How  are  you  going  to  take  me?" 
Cannibal — "  With  a  grain  of  salt." 


A  WINNER. 
There  was  once  a  clever  giraffe. 
Who  at  racing  gave  others  the  laugh. 
At  the  wire,  'tis  said, 
He  just  stuck  out  his  head 
And  won  by  three  feet  and  a  half. 


THE  FINANCIAL  SIDE  OF  IT. 

Miriam — "  A  gypsy  woman  told  me  to-day  that  I  would  be  married 
ide  of  a  year.     She  said  she  could  see  a  wedding-ring  upon  my  finger." 

Billy  Gotham  (gloomily) — "  Could  she  see  where  the  coin  was  com- 
from  to  pay  for  it  ?" 

"  I  Told  You  So." 

A  UNT  DINAH  was  laboring  over  the  wash-tub  in  the 
side  yard  near  her  cabin,  when  suddenly  and  mys- 
teriously a  little  negro,    as   if   fallen    from  the  skies, 
sprawled  upon  the  grass    near  by,   picked   himself    up 
slowly,  and  began  to  whimper. 

"  Hey,  yo',  Sam!"  cried  Aunt  Dinah,  "didn't  I  done 
severely  warn  yo'  'bout  dat?  Didn't  I  caution  yo'  elab- 
orately? Ain't  I  done  tole  yo'  ter  quit  foolin  eroun'  dat 
mule?" 

Worse  Yet, 

JONAH  was  wrapped  in  meditation  and  whale. 
"Yes,"  he  remarked;  "it  is  bad  to  be  down  and 
out,  but  it  is  worse  to  be  down  and  in." 

Herewith  he  anxiously  awaited  the  denouement. 

An  Epitaph. 

'l^HIS    epitaph   has    been    suggested   for   a  dentist's 
*      monument: 

"  View  this  gravestone  with  all  gravity; 
Below  I'm  filling  my  last  cavity." 


y — A/h 


T3  bo 

8.S 

c 


i*3J€%M)Hj]\ 


D 


s  J! 


o 


These  are  the  boys  that 


Hurroo ! 

IS  a  great  day  for  America — 

On  every  bush  and  tree 
The  mocking-bird  is  singing 
sweet, 
"Old     Ireland     must     be 
free. " 

Hurroo!  The  bands  are  play- 
ing, and  the  raud  is  two 
feet  deep, 

And  German  music  wakes 
the  Gael's  long,  hibernat- 
ing sleep. 

The  big  grand  marshal  loudly 
gives  the  order  to  "fall 
in"— 

He's  like  a  Russian  general, 
for  his  mother  was  a 
Finn. 

His  aids  are  Isaac  Silver- 
stein,  of  good  Mulcahy 
stock. 

And  Domenico  Silvestro — 
you  can  bet  he's  no  sham 
rock; 

For  he    drill's  the   real  arti- 
cle— his  mother's  a  Mc- 
Quade. 
'fear  no  noise" — the  Irish  on  parade. 


Hurroo!    From  Ballyhooly,  Mullingar  and  Garryowen, 
Kilshandrumbeg  and  Drogheda,  Killala  and  Athlone, 
The  brave  gossoons  to  Irish  tunes,  with  sauerkraut  flavored  fine, 
Are  marching  gallantly  and  strivmg  hard  to  keep  in  line. 
To-day  the  proud  Corkonian  walks  beside  the  wise  "Far-down" 
'Neath  the  green  flag  of  old  Ireland — "the  harp  without  the 

crown." 
Sure,  if  the  Sassenach  could  see,  'twould  make  him  sore  afraid — 
Such  a  formidable  army  is  the  Irish  on  parade. 

Hurroo!    The  pretty  colleens  laugh  and  cheer  along  the  way; 
"Shin  Fane"  and  " Faugh-a-ballagh "  are  the  slogans  of  the  day. 
See     the      wily     politician     with     a 

shamrock   on  his  coat. 
He    rides    in    state    and   throws   the 

bate  to  catch  the  Irish  vote. 
The  corpse  of  poor  old  Ireland  he'll 

drag  around  next  fall 
At   the   ignominious   cart-tail   in   the 

cause  of  Tammany  Hall. 
He   waves    the   whiskey-bottle  —  'tis 

the  emblem  of  his  trade. 
Alas!   they're  in  the  boss's  grip — the 

Irish  on  parade. 

'Tis  a  great  day  for  America — 

On  every  bush  and  tree 
The  mocking-bird  is  singing  sweet, 
"Old  Ireland  must  be  free." 

EUGENE  GEARY. 

Those  Happy  Years. 

"•"•"pOR  five  years  his  mar- 
•*■  ried  life  was  ideal, "  said 
the  friend. 

"For  five  years  only?"  asked 
the  other. 

"  Yes.  During  those  years  he 
was  lost  with  a  polar  e.xpedi- 
tion. " 

Pity  the  Poor  Millionaire. 

'  I  'HE  multi-millionaire  looked 
"^      sad.     To  the  body  of  men 
who  had  approached  him  for  a 
krge  donation  he  said: 


"I  am  sorry  to  refuse,  gentlemen,  but  even  I  feel  un- 
commonly poor  to-night." 

"  Doubdess, "  said  the  spokesman,  "  we  have  come  too 
late,  and  you  have  already  given  away  vast  sums  to  some 
other  charity. " 

"No,"  said  the  multi-milHonaire,  and  this  time  real 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes;  "not  that.  My  wife  has  been 
buying  a  new  hat. " 

The  Other  Words. 

'•''"Y'OU  do  well  to  complain  that  I  make  life  miserable 
for  you!"  said  the  wife.  "  It  sounds  well  when 
I  recall  how,  when  you  proposed  to  me,  you  begged  and 
begged  of  me  to  say  one  word  and  you  would  be  happy 
forever." 

"Yes,"  blurts  out  the  harassed  husband;  "but  you 
didn't  stop  on  that  one  word!" 

"What  Shall  We  Say?" 

'"'■"VXT'HAT   is   the   delay?"    asked   the   prosecuting 
^^       attorney  of  the  foreman  of  the  grand  jury. 
"Haven't  you  indicted  those  corporation  men?" 

"  Yes;  we  indicted  them  an  hour  and  a  half  ago, "  re- 
sponded the  foreman.     "  But  the  jurymen  are  in  a  dead 
lock  over  the  wording  of  the  apology  that  must  go  along 
with  the  indictment." 

Making  It  Easier  for  Him 

'T'HE  conventional  husband  was  making  the  conven- 
■*■      tional  spring-bonnet  remarks. 

"  After  I  have  worried  all  winter  over  the  money  I  was 
trying  so  hard  to  save, "  he  said,  "  I  find  that  you  have 
spent  it  all  for  your  new  hat." 

"  Yes, "  replied  his  sweet  young  wife.  "  I  want  to  re- 
lieve you  of  as  many  of  your  worries  as  possible. " 


A  CLOSE  CALL. 


MODELS  OF  PATIENCE. 

Mrs.  Gaddington — "  TUey  have  postponed  IIk- 
wedding  four  times." 

Mrs.  Buffington — "Well,  I  hope  they'll  do  as 
well  with  the  divorce." 

A  Practical  Connoisseur. 

Mrs.  Cobwigger — "  What  a  beautiful  collection  of  an- 
tiques you  have,  my  dear  !" 

Mrs.  Parventie — "  It  should  be.  My  husband  knows 
all  about  such  things,  and  had  them  made  to  order." 

The  Happy  Future. 

Mrs.  Waggles  —  "Everything  we  have  here  in  the 
house  is  so  old  it  is  shabby." 

Wa^<rles — "  Have  a  little  patience,  my  dear.  When 
they  get  a  little  older  they  will  be  antique." 

The  Man  and  the  Hour. 

Mrs.  Mason-Ledge  (waking  suddenly) — "  Is  that  you, 
Henry  ?     What  time  is  it  ?" 

Mr.  Mason-Lodge  (comfortingly)  —  "  'Sh,  dear  !  'S 
mush  earlier  'n  us'Iy  is  at  thish  time,  I  'sure  you." 


Logic. 

Teddie — "  Pa,  where  do  we  get  our  milk  from  ?" 

Father — "  From  cows,  my  son." 

Teddie — "  And  where  do  cows  get  their  milk  from  ?" 

Father — "  Why,  Teddie,  where  do  you  get  youn 
tears  ?" 

Teddie  (after  a  long,  thoughtful  pause) — "  Do  they  havei 
to  spank  cows,  papa  ?" 

Fame. 

First  Colombian  revolutionist — "  I  tell  you,  we  are. 
putting  UD  a  pretty  stiff  rebellion  this  time." 

Second  Colombian  revolutionist  (proudly)  —  "Stiff? 
Why,  I  understand  there  was  a  magazine  article  written 
about  us  last  month," 


HIS  PREFERENCE. 

Summer  girl — "  Don't  you  love  the  scent  of  new- 
mown  hay  ?" 

Vacation  man — "Oh,  passionately — but  I'd  a  lit- 
tie  sooner  buy  it  by  the  ounce  at  a  drug-store  !" 


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WHAT'S   IN   A  NAME? 
MoRGENSTERN — "  Good-evening,  Rosenstein.    I 
see  you've  got  j'our  new  clothing-factory  started — 
the  Rebecca  Suit  t^ompany,  you  call  it.     Why  did 
you  name  it  after  a  woman  ?" 

Rosenstein — "  For  luck.     It's  the  name  of  an 
old  flame  of  mine." 

Worse  Yet. 

Y  dear," said  Mr.  Penheck  timidly,  pausing  in  his 
occupation  of  dusting  tlie  chandelier,  "  did  you 
mail  tliose  letters  I  asked  you  to  post  for  me  ?" 
"  Of  course  l  dul,"  answered  Mrs.  Penheck, 
deep  in  her  perusal  of  the  evening  paper. 
"  It  is  strange,"  commented  Mr.  Penlieck,  with  a  touch 
of  doubt  in  his  tone,  "  that  I  haven't  received  any  answers 

yet.     One  of  the  letters  was  to  Brother  William,  and  " 

"  Maybe  somebody  forgot  to  mail  the  answers,"  inter- 
rupted Mrs.  Penlieck.  "  Don't  always  be  hinting  that  I  am 
the  only  woman  on  earth  wlio  forgets  to  mail  letters." 

"  I  am  not  hinting,  my  angel,"  faltered  Mr.  Penheck  as 
he  started  toward  the  kitchen;    "but  I  certainly  think  it 

strange  " 

"  Now  just  wait,"  ordered  Mrs.  Penheck,  dropping  her 
paper.  "  Let's  get  this  all  straightened  out  right  now.  I 
don't  want  those  letters  bobbing  up  at  every  meal  for  the 
next  month.     When  did  you  give  them  to  me  to  mail  ?" 

"  It  was  either  last  Monday  or  Wednesday  " 

"Good  heavens,  man!  don't  you  know  what  day  it  was?"" 
"  I  am  trying  to  decide.     I  can't  remember  w-hether  I 
wrote  them  after  I  had  hung  out  the  clothes  or  after  I  had 
finished  the  ironing." 
7 


"  It  must  have  been  after  you  finished  the  ironing.  You 
evidently  had  them  on  your  mind  while  you  were  ironing,  for 
my  white-duck  skirls  are  simply  not  fit  to  wear  to  business." 

"Well,  whenever  it  was,  I  remember  I  made  some  memo- 
randa on  my  desk-calendar.  That  will  prove  it,"  Mr.  Pen- 
heck said  with  a  triumphant  smile,  going  to  his  own  little 
desk  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  "Why,  here  are  the  letters!" 
he  cried.     "  1  must  have  forgotten  to  hand  them  to  you." 

"  I  guess  you  did  !"  sniffed  Mrs.  Penheck  ;  "  I  guess  you 
did  !  I  do  think  it  is  time  you  were  learning  to  know 
your  own  mind,  Henry." 

"  But  I  " began  Mr.  Penheck. 

"But  nothing!  Ami  to  eat  at  home  this  evening  or  go  to 
a  restaurant.'  Next  thing  I  know  you'll  be  accusing  me  of 
forgetting  to  eat  my  dinner  when  you  have  forgotten  to 
put  it  on  the  table." 

Mr.  Penheck  hurried  to  the  kitchen,  while  his  wife  added 
the  disputed  letters  to  a  bunch  of  others  which  were  in  her 
ample  pocket,  and  which  she  had  forgotten  to  mail. 

"  I'll  post  the  whole  batch  on  my  way  to  the  office  in  the 
morning,"  she  said,  "and  then  Henry  will  get  enough  letters 
in  reply  to  keep  his  mind  off  my  summer  clothes  until  the 
weather  gets  cooler." 


PROVEN ! 
••  Ilivin  fergive  me  fer  iver  makin'  ih'  shtatemint 
diot  a  dude  wor  no  use  in  this  wur-ruld  !" 


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Fab'.e  of  the  Two  Girls. 

NCE  there  was  a  little  girl  who  was  always  saying 
naughty  things,  and  a  wise  fairy  cast  an  enchant- 
ment upon  her,  so  that  each  time  she  spoke  noxious 
lizards,  snakes,  toads  and  other  reptiles  seemed  to 
leap  I'rom  her  mouth. 

And  there  was  another  little  girl  who  was  always  saying 
nice  things,  and  the  same  wise  fairy  so  wove  her  spells  that 
diamonds  and  rubies  and  money  fell  from  this  girl's  moutli 
when  she  would  talk. 

And  what  became  of  these  girls  ? 

The   first  one  was  engaged   by  an   astute   dime-museum 
manager  and  became  fabulously  rich. 

The  second  one  was  gobbled  up  by  a  trust  that  made  her 
talk  herself  to  death. 


THE   RE.\L   STUFF. 
Maggie — "  Is  dat  a  love-story  yer  readin'  ?" 
Chimmie— "  Betcher  life  it  is  !     Dere's  a  murdc-r  in  every 
chapter." 


Trying  the  Fad. 

THE  cannibal  king 
pores  long  and  ear- 
nestly over  a  package 
of  circulars  which  have 
been  taken  from  the 
person  of  one  of  his 
captives.  At  last  he 
says, 

"Well,  these  argu- 
ments in  support  of  the 
different  diets  certainly 
do  interest  me.  I  be- 
lieve I  will  try  a 
change."  Summoning 
his  chef,  he  orders, 
"  Serve  that  health-food 
man  for  breakfast  to- 
morrow." 


HIS  CASH  VALUE. 
They  say  she  married  money. 

'Tis  true  to  all  intents  ; 
For  though  he  is  not  wealthy. 

He  looks  like  thirty  cents. 


A  Natural  Supposition. 

THE  man  comes  home  about  an  hour  after  the  fire- 
men have  been  summoned  to  his  residence.  The  fire 
is  out,  but  the  front  of  the  house  is  decked  with  broken 
furniture,  rumpled  carpets,  disarranged  bedding,  pieces 
of  cracked  bric-a-brac,  and  smashed  pictures.  Survey- 
ing the  scene  for  a  moment,  he  goes  into  the  house, 
meeting  his  wife  in  the  hallway. 

"  I  thought  you  weren't  going  to  clean   house  until 
ne.xt  week,"  he  comments. 

Another  Freak. 

Visitor — "  What's  this  man  here  for  ?" 
Museum-man — "  He  was  seen   at  a   matinee  with 
his  wife." 


I  OVE  laughs  at  lock- 


L 


smiths,   but   that  is 


before  marriage. 


HOW  IT   HAPPENED. 
Mike — "  Begobs  !  we  won  th'  shtrike,  afther  bein'  out  tin  months." 
Pat — "  Tin  months  ?     But  phwy  ain't  ye  workin'  ?" 
Mike — "Oh.  we  voted  t'  take  a  week  off  t'  cilibrate  th'  victory."    - 


IS 


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The  Good  Advertisers. 

PSBJH AT  type  of  ze  Amer- 
I  vl  ican  girl  is  i  t," 
asks  the  count,  "  zat 
is  always  conspicuous  at  ze 
seashore  by  ze  shortness  of 
ze  costume,  and  in  ze  ball- 
room by  ze  shortness  in  ze 
ozzer  way  of  ze  costume, 
and  in  street-dress  by  ze 
what  you  call  drop-stitch 
and  ze  like  ?" 

"  That  ?'  we  answer  airily. 
"  Oh,  that  is  the  display 
type." 

Local   Repartee. 

(( pARDON  me,  gentle- 
*  men,"  said  the  indi- 
vidual who  had  just  moved 
into  the  little  town  as  he 
entered  the  grocery,  "  but 
is  there  a  chicken-raiser 
here  ?" 

"  Why  don't  you  take  an 
axe  ?"  asked  the  village 
Talleyrand.  "  A  razor  will 
■\  chicken." 


m 


THE  RE.\L  THING. 

Teacher — "A  bee's  sting,  magnified  a  thousand  timesi 
looks  like  a  saw." 

Scholar — "  Yes'm  ;  and  it  feels  like  a  buzz-saw  without 
any  magnifying  at  all." 


lose  its  edge  if  you  use  it  on 


Apprehension. 

JHY,   yes  ;    my  boy  is 
quite  ingenious.     In 
fact,  he  i3  so  inter- 
ested    in    machinery     that 
I'm  afraid  he  may  become 
an  inventor." 
•'  Afraid  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  because,  you  see, 
if  he  should  invent  anything 
of  value  the  chances  are  a 
hundred  to  one  that  some- 
body else  will  make  all  the 
money  out  of  it." 

A  Winner. 
«i  Vl/HEN  you  pucker  your 
lips  that  way,"  says 
the  billiardist  to  his  sweet- 
heart '  it  is  my  cue  for  a 
kiss." 

"Is  it  ?"  she  smiles. 
"  Well,  I  don't  carom  many 
you  take." 

For     she     had     not     yet 
learned  the  additional  inter- 
est that  may  be  given  the  game    by   the    establishment 
of  a  balk-line. 


WHAT   HE  WAS   AFRAID   OF. 

Cohen — "I  bite  effery  dome  I  take,  to  see  eef  it  is  goot." 

Isaacs — "  But  ain'd  you  afrait  ohJ  microbes?" 

Cohen — "Veil,  yes  ;  bud  nod  so  much  as  I  am  afrait  ohf  bad  money." 


BT    W.     D.     XESBIT.  ItLOSTRATED    BT    H.    C.    GBEENING. 


ERCIVAL  ILPHERSTONE, 
twenty-two  and  impression- 
(  able,  clerk  in  a  grocer's  shop, 
found  life  a  dull,  empty 
thing.  Life  is  peculiarly 
empty  to  most  of  us  at  twen- 
ty-two, as  at  that  ripe  age 
we  throw  aside  the  illusions 
of  youth  and  must  wait  for 
the  fiUing-up  process  of  the 
illusions  of  later  years.  So  it  was  with  Percival  Ilpher- 
stone.  To  him  there  was  little  sunshine  in  an  exist- 
ence which  consisted  of  getting  up  before  breakfast, 
racing  through  that  meal  so  as  to  be  at  the  store  early 
enough  to  sweep  it  out  before  the  business  of  the  day 
began ;  then  putting  in  eighteen  hours  of  twisting 
faucets  on  syrup  and  vinegar  barrels,  assuring  inquisi- 
tive ladies  that  the  dried  currants  were  pure  and  fresh, 
the  cheese  mild  and  rich,  and  the  sugar  choice  and 
unsanded.  And  on  the  particular  day  when  this  vera- 
cious chronicle  opens  he  was  more  than  ever  impressed 
with  the  hollow-ness  of  life,  for  he  had  been  assigned 
to  the  uncongenial  task  of  uncrating  a  consignment  of 
cold-storage  eggs  and  placing  them  in  a  tub  where 
they  might  be  labeled  "Strictly  Fresh,"  and  set  near 
the  doorway  as  if  they  had  been  deposited  there  by 
some  honest  farmer  who  had  come  in  to  trade  the 
product  of  his  poultry  yard  for  the  necessaries  of  life. 

Percival  even  found  it  impossible  to  whistle.  There 
seemed  to  be  nothing  in  him  but  groans  and  stifled 
curses. 

"Nice  thing  to  look  forward  to,"  he  grumbled. 
"  'Spose  I'll  have  to  lead  a  life  made  up  of  sorting 
eggs  and  knocking  the  heads  out  of  flour  barrels. 
It's  enough  to  disgust  a  man.  Hello  !  What's  this  ?" 
He  had  taken  up  an  egg  and  noticed  that  some- 
thing was  written  upon  it.  Carrying  it  to  the  cellar 
window,  where  he  might  get  a  better  light,  he  read 
the   inscription   carefully.      The  writing  was, 

"Jane  Fullingham,  East  River,  Pennsylvania." 

"Now,"   Percival   mused,    "I   wonder  who   Jane 

Fullingham    is,    where  East    River,    Pennsylvania,    is, 

and  what  Jane    Fullingham   wants.      Let 's  see — evi- 

lently  Jane  is  in  East  River,    and  East    River  is  in 


Pennsylvania.  Now,  what  do  girls  put  their  names 
and  addresses  on  eggs  for  ?  So  that  they  may  be  dis- 
covered by  handsome,  honorable  young  men,  who 
will  write  to  them  and  in  time  marry  them.  Shucks  ! 
It  makes  me  tired." 

He  put  the  egg  on  the  window-sill  and  returned 
to  the  crate.  But  this  time  he  had  ceased  groaning 
and  mumbling,  and  really  was  whistling  a  little  tune 
as  he  worked.  Once  in  a  while  a  smile  would  stop 
the  whistle,  but  in  the  main  it  went  along  so  merrily 
that  the  grocer  came  to  the  head  of  the  cellar  stairs 
and  listened,  then  tiptoed  back  to  the  front  of  the 
store  and  told  the  other  clerk  that  he  was  glad  to  hear 
Percival  whistle,  as  he  had  had  such  a  grouch  on  him- 
self for  a  month  or  so  that  he  drove  away  trade. 

When  young  Ilpherstone  had  sorted  out  all  the 
eggs  he  went  to  the  window  and  again  inspected  the 
one  with  Jane's  name  and  address  upon  it. 

"Plymouth  Rock  egg,"  he  murmured  to  himself 
"Good,  solid  farming  family.  Reckon  Jane  is  a  rosy- 
cheeked,  bright-eyed  girl,  fond  of  fun  and  full  of  mis- 
chief Well,  I'll  look  this  up.  But  I  won't  let  Jane 
have  any  fun  with  me.  I'll  find  out  something  about 
her  first." 


'  I  WROTE  \rv  NAME  AND  ADDRESS  ON  ONE  OF  THE  EGGS.'  " 


THE,    ROMAUNT    OF    THE    EGG 


All  that  day  he  was  clever  and  cheerful,  waiting  on 
customers  with  an  alacrity  and  willingness  that  made 
them  buy  twice  as  much  as  they  had  intended.  That 
night,  tired  as  he  was,  he  sat  up. until  midnight  composing 
a  letter  to  the  postmaster  at  East  River,  Pennsylvania. 
In  the  letter  he  asked  politely  for  information  as  to  Jane 
Fullingham,  intimating  that  upon  the  response  to  his  in- 
quiries depended  a  matter  of  much  importance,  but  urging 
the  necessity  of  the  postmaster's  keeping  all  knowledge  of 
the  letter  from  the  Fullingham  family  for  the  present. 

In  due  time  there  came  a  letter  from  the  postmaster, 
stating  that  Jane  Fullingham  was  the  daughter  of  Hiram 
Fullingham,  president  of  the  East  River  bank  ;  that  she 
had  just  been  graduated  from  college  and  was  spending  a 
vacation  at  home  before  taking  a  trip  through  Europe  ; 


was  interested,  and  next  she  was  curious.  When  a  wonuui 
becomes  curious,  and  a  man  is  the  object  of  her  curioiity, 
he  is  in  good  or  bad  luck  as  the  case  may  be.  Jane  knew 
and  liked  the  cousin  to  whom  Percival  had  referred,  and 
she  wrote  to  that  cousin  immediately,  asking  all  about  the 
young  man.  She  did  not  intend  writing  to  him  until  she 
should  hear  from  the  cousin — but  she  did.  As  she  told 
herself,  it  was  all  too  funny  for  worlds  ! 

Then  came  another  letter  from  Percival,  with  one  from 
the  cousin  saying  that  he  was  a  nice  young  fellow,  but 
that  the  only  drawback  to  him  was  that  he  was  young, 
and,  possibly,  a  trifle  too  self-confident.  Naturally  this 
satisfied  Jane,  and  she  continued  corresponding  with  Per- 
cival. Also,  naturally,  it  was  not  long  until  he  had  visited 
East  River,  met  Jane  and  her  family,  won  the  confidence 


'  HE    READ   THE   INSCRIPTION   CAREFULLY. 


that  she  was  a  popular  young  woman  socially,  and  that 
she  came  of  a  mighty  good  family,  and  that  he  hoped  this 
found  Mr.  Ilpherstone  in  good  health,  as  it  left  him,  re- 
maining yours  truly. 

Percival  lost  no  time  in  writing  to  Jane  Fullingham. 
He  couched  his  letter  in  the  most  graceful  and  gracious 
verbiage,  assuring  her  that  he  appreciated  the  spirit  of 
amu'sement-seeking  which  had  prompted  her  to  give  him 
her  address  in  such  an  unconventional  way,  but  asserting 
that  he  was  not  altogether  unfamiliar  with  her,  as  he  had 
a  cousin  who  had  attended  college  with  her  and  from 
whom-  he  had  heard  much  and  often  of  her.  Under 
the  circumstances  he  would  be  delighted  if  she  would 
favor  him  with  a  reply  to  his  letter,  remaining  her  humble 
Servant  and  well  wisher. 

That  Jane  Fullingham  v.  as  gurprised  when  she  received 
this  letter  is  stating  her  sensations  entirely  too  mildly.  She 
was  astonished,  and  then  she  was  amused  ;    and  then  she 


of  her  and  her  father,  and  at  last  was  given  a  position  in 
the  East  River  Bank. 

In  the  meantime  the  egg  had  been  forgotten.  Not 
that  Percival  had  permitted  it  to  escape  his  memory.  He 
had  "  blown  "  it  and  was  saving  the  shell,  carefully  packed 
in  cotton,  in  the  bottom  of  his  trunk.  But  some  way  or 
other,  every  time  he  talked  with  Jane  there  had  been 
matters  of  far  greater  importance  than  eggs  to  discuss. 
Well,  the  affair  ran  along,  as  all  such  affairs  do  once  they 
are  started,  and  terminated  in  Percival's  asking  a  cer- 
tain question  and  Jane's  giving  a  certain  answer,  which 
resulted  in  what  the  East  River  Herald  termed  "  the  most 
important  social  and  matrimonial  event  that  ever  has  ob- 
tained in  the  haut  monde  of  East  River."  In  other  words, 
Percival  Ilpherstone  and  Jane  Fullingham  were  married. 
Now  we  come  to  the  egg. 

The  happy  young  couple  received  many  presents,  of 
course.      And    among   the    cut    glass,    silver,    and    other 


THE    ROMAUNT    OF    THE    EGG 


"  Wait  a  minute,  children.  Don't  have  your  first  quarrel 
so  soon  after  you  have  been  married.    Let  me  see  that  egg." 

She  took  the  egg,  looked  it  over  carefully,  laughing 
softly  all  the  time,  and  then  replaced  it  tenderly  in  the  case. 

"  Mercy  me  !"  she  cried.  "  I  never  dreamed  of  seeing 
that  egg  again.  Hiram,  do  you  remember  when  we  were 
children  and  lived  on  the  old  farm  ?" 

"  Yes,  aunt,"  answered  Percival's  father-in-law. 

"  Well  " — she  blushed  finely — "  well,  once,  when  I  was 
helping  your  grandpa  pack  eggs  to  ship  to  the  people  that 
stored  them  for  better  markets,  I — I  was  just  a  foolish  girl 
then,  you  know — I  wrote  my  name  and  address  on  one  of 
the  eggs.  'Jane  Fullingham,  East  River,  Pennsylvania,' 
is  what  I  wrote,  and  here  it  is  on  this  eggshell.  If  that 
isn't  the  strangest  thing  !" 

"  Well,  Aunt  Jane,"  declared  Percival,  "  you  are  en- 
titled to  my  undying  thanks  for  being  just  a  foolish  girl, 
anyhow." 


"  And    mine, 
pherstone. 


things  prominently  displayed  was  an  egg — just  a  common, 
ordinary,  every-day  egg-cresting  in  a  velvet  case  lined 
with  purple  silk. 

"  What  in  the  world  is  this  ?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Percival 
Ilpherstone,  after  the  guests  had  gone  and  she  and  her 
new  husband  and  the  rest  of  the  family  were  inspecting 
the  array. 

"  That  ?"  laughed  Percival.  "  Why,  surely  you  know 
what  that  is." 

"  Of  course  I  know  it  is  an  egg.  But  what  is  it  doing 
here  ?     What  a  funny  present !" 

"  Funny  ?     Why,  I  gave  it  to  you." 

"  You  ?" 

"  Yes.  Don't  you  recognize  that  writing  ?"  And  he 
pointed  to  the  inscription  :  "Jane  Fullingham,  East  River, 
Pennsylvania." 

"  It's  my  name,"  she  said  ;  "  but  how  did  it  come 
there  ?" 

"  How  ?     Why — why — you  wrote  it  there." 

"  Never !" 

"Why,  what 
do  you  mean  ? 
Didn't  you 
write  your  name 
and  address  on 
that  egg,  and 
didn't  I  find  it  in 
the  crate  I  was 
unpacking,  and 
didn't  I  write  to 
you,  and  didn't 
you  write  to  me, 
and  didn't  I 
come  here,  and 
didn't  you  mar- 
ry me  ?" 

"  Why,  Per- 
cival 1  Are  you 
out  of  your 
head  ?" 

At  this, 
Jane's  grand- 
aunt,  who  had 
been  looking  on 
with  a  rare  twin- 
kle in  her  kindly 
eyes,  spoke :  "  he-was  so  cheerful  that  customers  bought  twice  as  much  as  they  had  intended." 


too,  aunty,"   laughed    Mrs.   Percival   II- 


"  But  just 
think, "said  Per- 
cival, "justthink 
of  it.  Your  aunt 
Jane  wrote  her 
name  on  there 
when  she  was  a 
little  girl — that 
must  have  been 
before  the  civil 
war.  And  those 
eggs  only  got 
into  the  '  strict- 
ly-fresh ' 
about  a 
ago." 

"It  only 
goes  to  show," 
asserted  Uncle 
Eben,  who  was 
Aunt  Jane's  hus- 
band, "that  you 
never  can  tell 
how  or  where 
an  egg  or  a  love 
affair  is  going 
to  end." 


class 
year 


^ 


SHE  was  a  dainty,  graceful  thing 
Of  ribbons,  lace,  and  bows  ; 
She  had  a  smile  to  match  the  spring, 

A  mouth  to  match  a  rose. 
A  glance  at  me  and  I  was  won — 

To  win  her  then  I  swore. 
It  was  a  thing  that  I  had  done 
Before. 


% 


Error. 


^         % 


I  dared  to  walk  beside  her — oh, 
What  rapture  thus  to  walk  ! 

I  dreamed  of  music  that  should  flow 
When  she  with  me  should  talk. 

So  close  I  bent  me  to  her  face — 
Just  then  the  saucy  elf 

Tum«d  suddenly  and  whispered  "Chase 
Yourself  I" 


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MR.GIEKOWSKI 

ON  THE 


TLLUSTBATED   BT   H.    C.    GBEENIIt'G. 


GIEKOWSKI  was  a  small 
man  with  a  round  head, 
principally  hairless,  and 
eyes  that  looked  seriously 
through  a  large  pair  of  iron- 
rimmed  spectacles.  By 
birth  he  was  a  Polish- 
Frenchman,  and  by  nature 
be  was  an  investigator  oi 
human  beings.  You  might 
have  called  him  an-  anthro- 
pological detective,  ex- 
cept for  the  fact  that  the  name  did  not  fit  him  very 
well — but  neither  did  his  clothes. 

yir.  Giekowski  had  come  to  America  to  study 
America  and  tl»e  Americans,  and  not 
knowing  the  American  language — 
although  he  had  some  slight  smatter- 
ing of  English — he  set  about  learning 
it  in  the  quickest  and  most  logical 
manner  possible.  He  attended  the 
theatres  and  read  books,  and  thus  he 
acquired  in  a  very  short  time  a  fluency 
and  breadth  of  diction  that  many 
Americans  never  succeed  in  compassing. 
If,  in  his  search  for  the  idiom,  he 
ended  by  securing  a  somewhat  con- 
glomerate speech,  we  must  not  blame 
Mr.  Giekowski.  If  his  theatrical  ven- 
tures were  with  Weber  and  Fields,  the 
"County  Chairman,''  and  the  vaude- 
ville stage  ;  and  if  his  literary  pursuits 
brought  to  him  I\Ir.  Dooley,  George 
Ada's  classic  works,  and  Mr.  Barries 
stories,  it  was  no  fault  of  his.  Mr. 
Giekowski  did  his  best,  and  that  the 
American  literary  and  dramatic  lan- 
g-uage  is  often  peculiar  in  its  idiomatic 


structure  and  verbal  form  is  certainly  not  to  be  held 
against  Mr.  Giekowski. 

One  evening  he  met  Mr.  Muggins,  a  gentleman 
who  holds  an  important  position  behind  a  necktie 
counter  in  a  Sixth-avenue  store,  and  over  a  bottle  of 
rusty  red  claret,  in  a  French  table  d'hote  restaurant — 
dinner  with  wine,  forty  cents — Mr.  Giekowski  gave  a 
few  opinions  of  literature  and  the  drama. 

"Shure,  now,  Misther  Muggins,"  said  Mr.  Gie- 
kowski, "an'  it's  a  grand  show  I  was  after  seein'  ianst 
noight  down  by  der  tee-a-tur,  und  it  iss  noddings  vat 
you  call  a  show  mit  some  oxpensiveness  to  get  into  it. 
Not  on  your  life,  cully ;  de  price  was  dead  easy.    See  ?" 

"Ten,  twenty,  thirty?"  inquired  Mr.  Muggins. 

"So  iss  it,"  agreed  :\Ir.  Giekowski.      "  It  is  wan  of 


"THE   FLOSSIE   SEESTAIRS. ' 


MR.  GIEKOWSKI  ON  THE  DRAMA 


dem  continuations  in  der  performings  shows.  Not  iss  it, 
anytimes,  when  somedings  on  der  stage  ain't.  Yes  ?  I 
make  a  goot  langwidge  ?" 

"Oh,  mercy  me,  yes  !"  lisped  Mr.  Muggins. 

*'  Verra  weel,"  continued  Mr.  Giekowski.  "  Ye  ken 
richt  weel  it's  whit  ye  ca'  vodderviller.  An'  a  richt  gran' 
shaw  it  wis.  Shure,  now,  Misther  Muggins,  give  me  vau- 
deville ivery  toime  phwin  Oi  want  to  shtudy  human  natur". 
it's  an  illigant  thing  human  natur'  is,"  said  Mr.  Giekowski, 
"  as  set  forth  before  us  upon  the  vaudeville  stage  of  the 
tee-a-tur.  Where  iss  it.  Mister  Muggins,  can  a  man  sooch 
a  studyings  make  of  der  beopies  of  der  United  States  as 
by  der  continuations  performings  show  ?  When  I  by  der 
continuations  performing  shows  a  little  more  go  I  know 
der  insides  of  der  livings  of  der  American  beopies  like  one 
encyclone-pedix. " 

"  Aw,  Mr.  Giekowski,"  said  Mr.  Muggins  playfully, 
"  you  mean  an  encyclopidia." 

"  Yas,  massa,"  said  Mr.  Giekowski  gratefully,  "  dat  is 
sure  a  fac'.  Dat's  jes'  what  I  mean — umcyclopeby.  Dat's 
what  I  say.  I  know  um  all  like  dat  book  I  mention.  And 
don't  let  that  fact  slip  your  think-box.  The  vaudeville  is 
the  cross-lot  path  to  the  wise  gazabo's  hang-out.  The 
man  who  takes  in  a  bunch  of  ten-twent'-thirt'  shows  has  a 
lead-pipe  cinch  on  the  little  old  Yankee  Doodle  customs, 
and  no  error. 

"  Ze  langwidge  !"  continued  Mr.  Giekowski,  with  en- 
thusiasm, "  ze  beootiful  cloze  !  ze  charming  ways  !  How 
ze  devil  vill  I  efer  learn,  ozerwize,  zat  ze  American,  when 


ze  wife  is  in  ze  evening  costume,  slap  her,  smack  !  on  ze 
bare  back  ?  How  ze  dickins  vill  I  else  learn  zat  ze  Ameri- 
can man  nevair  so  funny  as  when  he  most  intoxicate  ?  Oh  ! 
how  funny  ze  American  man  when  he  intoxicate  !  Zis  I 
find  is  ze — what  you  call  him  ? — ze  groundation  stone  of 
ze  American  humor — to  get  intoxicate.  Ze  full,  ze  jag,  ze 
skate — zis  is  ze  funny  business. 

"  An'  let  me  give  ye  another  pointer,  Misther  Muggins," 
continued  Mr.  Giekowski.  "  Wan  av  the  grandest  troi- 
umphs  av  human  wit  in  the  twintieth  century  is  fer  a 
whoite  mon  to  put  shtove  black  on  his  face.  Whin  his 
face  is  blacked  up,"  said  Mr.  Giekowski'  "  he  kin  give  us 
jokes  that  ought  to  have  been  burrid  before  Noah  kim  aff 
the  ark,  an'  we  bust  aff  buttons  laughin'  at  thim.  Shure, 
Misther  Muggins,  it's  a  moighty  lucky  thing  that  there  's  a 
law  agin  a  tee-a-tur  performer  blackin'  up  his  face  an' 
gettin'  a  jag  at  wan  an'  the  same  toime.  If  such  a  thing 
kem  about,  Misther  Muggins,  it's  dead  in  their  seats  the 
aujience  wud  be  from  laughin'. 

"  A  weel  !  a  weel  !"  he  continued  ;  "lauchin'  isna  a' 
of  life  ;  na  mair  is  it  a'  of  play-actin',  Meester  Muggins. 
A  wee  bit  o'  sang  gaes  weel.  An'  it's  gran'  the  singin' 
I  heard  the  nicht  !  Lowk  me  !  Sic  singin'  wad  make 
the  cherubim  jealous,  an'  good  reason  for  ut.  The 
cherubim  be  nowt  but  a  curly  head  an'  a  wee  bit  pair 
wings,  Meester  Muggins,  an'  hoo  they  sing  withou'  lungs 
is  beyon'  me.  Na  mair  could  the  Flossie  Seesters  I  saw 
the  nicht  sing  withou'  legs.  But  'twas  gran'  singing  they 
did  wi'  'em,  Meester  Muggins. 


"IN   A   FRBNCH   TABLE    D'HOTE." 


MR.  GIEKOWSKI  ON  THE  DRAMA 


"  Firsta,  da  mekka  da  gran' 
duetta  on  a  da  pink  stocks — 
fortissimo,  piano,  tremolo! 
Nexta  mekka  da  solo — kicka 
da  roof,  kicka  da  sky,  kicka  da 
moon  !  Oh  !  gran'  sopg  dat. 
Nexta  da  oddera  girl  singa  da 
solo  jig — see  da  lacp,  see  da 
stock — see  da  —  9h  !  gran' 
song  !  Nexta  da  mekka  da 
gran'  finale,  kicka  da  roof, 
flasha  da  lace,  turni  da  somer- 
sault, shaka  da  hair  !  Voice  ? 
Not  notice  da  voice — fine-a  da 

leg."  \ 

"  Oh,  you  awful  man  !"  sim- 
pered Mr.  Muggins.  "  How 
dare  you  ?" 

"  Trubble  wid  yo',"  said  Mr. 
Giekowski,  "  is  dat  you  ain't 
got  no  'preciation  of  fine  aht. 
Dis  yere  American  publick 
dey  jes'  got  to  hab  aht.  '  Aht 
fo'  aht's  sake,"  dat's  what  dey 
jes'  natchuUy  yellin'  dey  heds 
off  fo'.  Dat's  what  ebery 
ahtist  is  workin'  foh  to-day." 

"  What  is  '  art  for  art's 
sake '  ?"  asked  Mr.  Muggins. 

Mr.  Giekowski  took  off  his  spectacles,  wiped  them  and 
put  them  on  again. 

"Say,  kid,"  he  said,  "  you'se  is  stringin'  me,  eh  ?  No, 
honest  ?  Den  I  '11  let  a  little  light  into  youse  top-piece. 
Mebby  you  ain't  ever  put  your  peepers  on  a  thousand- 
plunk  bank-note  ?  No  ?  Well,  say,  talk  about  your  Venus 
de   Medicines  !    Venus  would  size  up  like  a  First  avenue 


SLAP  HER,  SMACK  I  ON  ZE  BARE  BACK  ! 

delicatessen  bologna  alongside  of  one  of  deni  thousand 
dol.  beauts.  See  ?  Take  it  from  me  dat  a  thousand 
shiner  bank-note  is  the  artisticalest  picture  you  ever  seen. 
It's  real  art,  an'  no  error.  Well,  are  you  next  ?  When 
you  hear  a  howl  about  a  guy  doin'  it  all  for  art's  sake,  you 
bank  your  roll  dat  dem  choicely  engr.nved  bank-notes  is 
de  sort  of  art  he's  got  his  eye  on." 


!*!        5J?        ?il?        51?        ?*?        5i<        55? 


^ 


He  Couldn't  Forget  It. 

HEY  sat  there  in  the  gloaming  ;  the  night-breeze  murmured  by, 
Its  melody  a  cadence  half-laden  with  a  sigh. 
She  turned  and  eyed  him  fondly,  then  gently,  sofdy,  said, 
■  •  The  years  have  left  their  record  upon  your  snowy  head. 
But  still  I  can't  forget  them,  those  days  so  bright  and  blue. 
When  you  were  'lovey-dovey  *  and  I  was  'ootsey-oo.'  " 


The  moon  hung  low  ;  the  moonbeams  came  mellow  from  .nfur  : 
Across  the  hazy  distance  there  gleamed  the  evening  star. 
The  hour  had  made  her  tender,  had  called  to  mind  the  past. 
'  Ah  " — tremblingly  she  breathed  it — "  if  those  young  days  could  last! 
They  still  come  trooping  to  me,  those  days  so  glad  and  true, 
When  you  were  'lovey-dovey'  and  I  was  'ootsey-oc>.'  " 


ITneasily  he  twisted  upon  his  rocking-chair. 

"  Do  you  recall,"  she  asked  him,  '-those  days  so  sweet  and  fair? 
Do  you  remember,  darling,  how  dear  it  seemed  to  you 
When  I  said  '  lovey-dovey'  and  you  said  'ootsey-oo'  ?" 
He  found  his  voice  that  moment,  and  •' i»t-sey-oo  "  was  jarred — 

"  No.     I  cannot  forget  them — but  I'm  trying  to  mighty  hard." 


.2 


S  H 


<  J : 


?2 


So. 


It  May  Be. 


-j:Xi>^^^ 


COMPULSORY   TEMPERANCE. 
Casey — "Kelly  hazn't  th'  price  av  a  dhrink." 
CoSTlGAN — "  How  do  yez  know  thot?" 
Casey — "  He  ain't  dhrinkin'." 


E  are  voicing  our 
views  on  the 
general  foolish- 
ness of  some  women 
when  they  play  whist. 

"  But,"  objects  one 
of  the  company,  "  some 
of  the  brightest  women 
I  know  play  whist." 

"  It  only  seems  that 
way,"  disputes  a  griz- 
zled gentleman  in  the 
corner.  "They  simply 
shine  by  contrast." 

Epitaph. 

AJOKESMITH  lies  be- 
neath  this  stone. 
Pray    let    no    sorrow 
mar, 
But  hope  that  in  the  great 
unknown 
He  found   the  door  a 


Had  the  Best  Chance. 

AM  in  the  hands  of  my  friends,"  said  the  first 
candidate  with  much  dignity.  "  I  leave  my 
future  to  them." 

The  second  candidate  smiled  sardonically. 
"  And  I,"  he  asserted,  "  am  in  the  pockets  of  my  friends. 
They  must  look  after  my  future,  or  they  won't  catch  even." 
This,   my  child,  demonstrates  the  difference  between 
standing  for  office  and  running  for  the  same. 


n 


A  Seasonable   Request. 

A,"  said   the   minister's  little   boy,   "  last  summer 
you  prayed  for  rain,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  child,"  responded  the  good  man. 
"  And  it  rained,  didn't  it  ?" 
"  Yes,  my  son  ;  my  prayer  was  answered." 
"  Well,  pa,"  said  the  boy,  looking  wistfully  at  his  new 
sled,   "  don't   you    think    you    might    ask    for    about    ten 
inches  of  snow  this  week  ?" 


s 


It  Is  So  Stajed. 

HE  sought  to  kiss 
A  girl  from  Wis. 
She  murmured  "  Oh, 
You  must  not — No !" 

He  iighed,  ' '  Marie, 
Don't  you  love  Me.  ?" 
And  then  said  "Pshaw! 
Don't  call  your  Pa." 

Coaxed  thus,  the  Miss. 
Gave  him  the  kiss. 
And  yet  again, 
Till  he  took  Tenn. 

Had  Played 

With  Blocks. 

r\OROTHY  had   never 
before  seen  a  house 
constructed  with  so  many 
gables. 

"Goodness!"  she  ex- 
claimed, "  the  one  that 
took  that  house  to  pieces 
forgot  how  to  put  it  to- 
gether again." 
8 


THE   HUMAN    FAILING. 
Tommy  Owl—"  Confound  it,  Jimmy  I     I  wish  to  goodness  you'd  keep  to  your  end  of  the  limb  f 

You'll  have  me  out  of  bed  in  a  minute." 


^=^ 


' '  Gracious   sakes  !       If  dere  ain't  old  Sandy  Claws 
UisseLf  comiri'  dis  way." 


"An'  he's  left  me  a  present,   sure." 


The  Sugar  Girls. 

(Oxnard,  the  beet-sugar  king,  has  engaged  a  dozen  pretty  girls  to  make  a  door-to-door  mission  among  the  farmers  of  California  to  persuade 

them  to  turn  from  cane-  to  beet-sugar.— -Err/taw^ir.) 


D 


HE  Oxnard  girls,  'tis  very  plain, 
Object  to  farmers  raising  cane  ; 
But  if  what's  said  above  is  true, 
Something  like  this  these  girls  will  do  : 


They'll  boom,  of  course,  the  juicy  sweet 
That  permeates  the  sugar-beet 
Until  tlie  farmers'  boys  shall  pine 
For  them  as  far  more  saccharine. 


Then  beets  will  vanish,  and  instead 
The  boys  these  pretty  girls  will  wed  ; 
For  theirs  is  sweetness  that's  so  sweet 
That  they  forever  beat  the  beet 


"  Dis  must  be  wot  dey  calls  a  surprise  package.' 


4- 

-And  it  was  I 


Pickaninny  in  de  Moon. 

{A  fnamtnys  lullaby.') 

ICKANINNY  'S  in  de  moon, 
An'    I    gwine   ter   see    her 

I         soon — 

I's  waitin'  fo'  de  clouds  ter  break  away. 
Wlien  de  little  stars  come  out 
Den  yo'U  heah  dis  mammy  shout, 
An'  I  won't  lebe  mah   honey  twell  it's 
day. 

Pickaninny  's  in  de  moon — 
She  am  laik  a  rose  in  June, 

An'  her  face  am  a-beamin'  all  de  while. 
An'  when  I  shet  mah  eye 
I  kin  see  her  stan'in'  nigh — 

When  I  dream  in  mah  sleep  I  see  her 
smile. 

Pickaninny  's  in  de  moon — 

An'  I  gwine  ter  see  her  soon. 
Dey  tuck  her  f 'um  her  cradle  long  ago 

An'  put  her  face  in  de  sky 

Fo'  a  light  when  I  go  by, 
An'  I  know  dat  she'll  meet  me  at  de  do'. 

Pickaninny  in  de  moon, 

I's  coniin'  putty  soon — 
Yo'  is  waitin'  fo'  yo'  mammy  by  deway. 

An'  I  spec'  ter  meet  yo'  dar. 

An'  togedder  on  a  star 
We'll  trabel  twell  we  meet  de  break  ob 
day. 


HOW  IT   LOOKED. 

First  girl — "  He  promised  ter  meet  me  here 
at  t'ree  o'clock  an'  treat  me  ter  hot  soda." 

Secon  d  GI r l — ' '  Well,  he's  probably  givin  'yer 
de  absent  treatment  at  dis  very  minnit." 


A  Marine  Revelation. 

nHE  ancient  mariner  has  just 
finished  telling  us  how  he 
existed  for  six  months  on  a 
shipwrecked  vessel  that  was  to- 
tally unprovided  with  provisions. 

"  But  what  did  you  do  for  bread 
all  that  time  ?"  we  object  with 
incredulity. 

"  Oh,  the  waves  gave  us  some 
lovely  rolls,"  is  the  reply. 

Fearing  that  he  may  state  next 
that  they  got  spring  chicken  from 
the  forward  hatch,  we  smite  him 
violently  and  flee  through  the 
open  casement.  Truly,  only  those 
who  have  lived  with  their  arms 
around  old  ocean's  gray  and  mel- 
ancholy waste  can  appreciate  the 
mysteries  of  the  sea. 

Made  Up. 

(( li/HAT   a  very  artificial    wo- 
' '     man  she  is  !" 
"  Isn't  she  ?    Why,  she  dresses 
her  hair  to  look  like  a  wig." 


A  Great 

Sclieme. 

<<THIS  ought  to 
make  my 
fortune  !"  exclaim- 
ed the  poor  in- 
ventor, coming 
into  the  office  of 
the  manufacturer. 

"  What  have 
you  figured  out 
now  ?"  asked  the 
manufacturer. 

"  Set  of  alpha- 
bet blocks." 

"  Nothing  new 
in  that  idea." 

"  But  there  is. 
This  is  for  the  Eng- 
lish trade.  I  have 
succeeded  in  per- 
fecting a  non-drop 
pable  '  h  '  block." 

Just  As  Good. 

sporting  editor 
— "  Our  best  foot- 
ball reporter  is  sick 
and  can't  go  to  the 
game." 

Ma  nag  ing  editor 
— "  Never  mind  ; 
we'll  send  the  war- 
correspondent." 


ANENT   THE   KICKER. 

Maizie. — "  What  a  superb  kicker  that  quarter-back  is  !" 

Willie — "  He  ought  to  be.     He's  the  star  boarder  up  at  our  boarding-house. 


Would  Be 
a  Hardship. 

((  THAT  explorer 
says  that 
away  off  in  the 
south,  where  he 
comes  from,  they 
have  thirty  and 
thirty-one  nights  in 
the  month,"  says 
the  first  Esquimau 
boy. 

"Gee !  thaS 
wouldn't  suit  fa- 
ther," asserts  the 
second  Esquimau 
boy.  "  Every  time 
he  went  to  the 
lodge  he  would 
lose  about  fifty 
days'  work." 

Foxy. 

Mrs.  Talkington 
— "  Mrs.  Spatt  used 
to  throw  dishes  at 
her  husband  across 
the  dining-table." 

Mrs.    Jabber-^ 
"Well,    she    has, 
s t  opped  it.      Hs 
gave   her  a  lovel- 
Limoges      dinnc 
set  for   her   birtl 
day." 


The  Elephant  and  the  Hare. 

A  Jable. 
N  ELEPHANT  that  had  read  the  fable  of  the 
tortoise  that  by  strict  attention  to  business  had 
won  a  race  from  a  hare  that  indulged  in  sleep, 
gentle  sleep,  during  the  progress  of  the  race, 
decided  to  profit  by  the  hint  given  by  Mr. 
^sop,  so  he  challenged  a  rabbit  to  a  contest 
of  speed  and  offered  to  bet  genuine  money  on 
the  result. 

"  You  are  on,"  said  the  rabbit,  and  the 
course  was  measured,  judges  were  selected 
and  press-agents  secured. 

"  It   is    a    cinch,"    said    the    elephant.     "  I 
weigh  between  four  and  five  tons.     That  hare, 
in  racing  form,  weighs  twenty-two  ounces.     I 
will  win  by  three  long  city  blocks." 

"  If  that  pachyderm  is  figuring  on  my  being  dopy,"  said  the 


w.G.  WA  i.*se  R» 


"BOXED   CALF." 


THE  BUSY   BEE. 
Mr.  Frog  {who  has   been   stung)  —  "Boo-boo! 
Darn  these  infernal  bees,  they  ought  to  be  arrested  foi 
carrying  concealed  weapons." 

rabbit,  '■  he  will  discover  that  he  has  been  smok- 
ing the  wrong  brand  himself,  for  I  am  troubled 
with  insomnia  and  1  never  sleep.  What  resting 
I  do  is  after  the  running  has  ended  and  the  shout- 
ing has  commenced." 

The  race  was  run  and  those  who  had  placed 
their  money  on  the  elephant  never  saw  it  again. 
The  rabbit  covered  the  distance  before  the 
elephant  had  moved  his  ponderous  legs  three 
times. 

Moral — The  elephant  was  out  of  his  class. 


HER  ARGUMENT. 
"  But,  my  dear,  I  look  for  the  deeds  of  a  man,  not  his  title." 
'•  Yes,  papa  ;  but  it  remains  with  us  whether  the  duke  shall  keep  either.' 


At  the  Minstrels'. 

II  I  MET  you  at  precisely 
eleven-fifty-nine  o'clock 
last  night,"  said  Mr.  Rattlin 
Bones  to  Mr.  Putton  Corke, 
the  enirir»ent  interlocutor. 

"  You  say  you  met  me  at 
precisely  eleven-fifty-nine 
o'clock  last  night  ?"  repeated 
Mr.  Putton  Corke.  "And  what 
of  that,  sir  ?" 

"  Nothing  particular,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Rattlin  Bones. 

Some  few  misguided  peo- 
ple in  the  audience  started 
applauding  immediately,  but 
they  vifere  silenced  by  a  wave 
of  the  hand  from  the  inter- 
locutor. 

"  Nothing  particu- 
lar," said  Mr.  Rattlin 
Bones,  rolling  his  eyes 
and  doing  a  little  fancy 
step.  "  Only  it  made 
me  think  of  some- 
thing." 

"  Ah !"  commented 
Mr.  Putton  Corke. 
"  Nothing  particular 
— only  it  made  you 
think  of  something  ? 
And  what  was  that, 
may  I  inquire  ?" 

"  A  conundrum," 
asserted  Mr.  Rattlin 
Bones. 

Here  a  man  in  the 
gallery  was  unable 
longer  to  restrain  his 
hilarity  and  had  to  be 
carried  to  the  lobby, 
where  a  physician  ap- 
plied restoratives. 

"It  made  you  think 
of  a  conundrum  ?" 
asked  Mr.  Putton 
Corke  when  quiet  had 
been  restored.  "  And 
what  was  the  nature 
of  the  conundrum  .'" 

"It  was  this  :  Why 
was  my  meeting  you 
at  eleven-fifty-nine  last 
night  like  the  stomach 
of  Sir  Henry  Irving?" 
Wild  whoops  of 
appreciation  greeted 
this,  but  the  whoopers 
feltsome  chagrin  when 
the  interlocutor  again 
gave  that  deprecatory 


"Boo-hoo!     Willie 
ter,  t'inkin'  she  was  me. 


WHY   SHE  CRIED. 

s  gone  an'  proposed  ter  me  twin  sis- 


wave  of  his  hand  and  con- 
vinced them  that  they  had 
unpent  too  soon. 

"  Well,  sir,"  he  said  to 
Mr.  Rattlin  Bones,  "  ana  why 
did  your  meeting  me  at  eieven- 
fifty-nine  o'clock  last  night 
remind  you  of  a  conundrum 
which  >3,  Why  was  your 
meeting  me  at  eleven-fifty- 
nine  o'clock  last  night  like 
the  stomach  of  Sir  Henry 
Irving  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Mr.  Rat- 
tlin Bones,  while  the  audience 
hung  on  to  the  seats  in  atti- 
tudes of  great  tension  ;  "  be- 
cause it  was  almost  midnight." 
Although  the  or- 
chestra immediately 
started  in  on  the  open- 
ing bars  of  the  popu- 
lar Jimmy  Clogg's 
song,  "  No  nigger  kin 
make  me  jump  de 
fence,"  the  torrent  of 
applause  which  fol- 
lowed drowned  com- 
pletely the  strains 
from  the  instruments. 
In  fact,  it  was  neces- 
sary, before  the  show 
could  proceed,  for 
Mr.  Rattlin  Bones  to 
arise  and  bow  and  do 
a  "  break,"  which 
terminated  in  a  fake 
fall,  accompanied  by 
a  terrific  whack  on 
the  bass-drum. 

Off  His  Feed. 

«/^AN'T  I  serve 
you  some  nice 
curried  eggs  this 
morning,  sir  ?"  asked 
the  obsequious  waiter. 


'  Curried 


eggsi 


repeated  the  gutst. 
"What  have  I  struck 
— a  mare's  nest  ?" 


WHEN   TO   GET  MARRIED. 
"Isn't  she  too  young  to  get  married?" 
"Oh,  yes.     She  won't  come  into  her  fortune  for  two  years  yet." 


«pOOTLITES     is 
making  an   in- 
novation   in    his   new 
part." 

"  How,  Antonio  ?" 

"He  has  had  a  real 

army  officer  show  him 

how  to  draw  his  sword 

and  sheathe  it." 


This  Age  of  Imitations. 

((  yOV  deny,"  said   the   upright  judge,  "  that  you  are  a 
'      combination  in  restraint  of  trade,  and  yet  you  ac- 
knowledge that  you  have   cornered   the   entire   supply  of 
imitation  silks." 

"  We  acknowledge  that,  your  honor,"  smiled  the  presi- 
dent of  the  combine,  "  but  the  law  only  takes  cognizance 
of  realities.  We  contend  that  we  are  merely  an  imitation 
silk  trust," 


Edible  to  Him. 

<i  VOU  say,"  tittered  the  fiancee  of  the  VQg«tari&n,  "  tlvtt 
you  could  fairly  eat  me.  Now  isn't  that  contrary 
to  the  tenets  of  your  belief?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  asserted  the  vegetarian. 

"  But  if  you  ate  me  " 

"  I  should  simply  be  eating  a  peach." 

No  use  talking,  the  meat  diet  isn't  the  only  one  that 
makes  the  mind  active. 


THE  WRETCH. 
"  They  say  her  husband  hasn't  given  her  a  thing  since  he  married  her.' 
"No.     He  won't  even  give  her  grounds  for  divorce." 


Up  to  Date. 

<«  VES,"  said   the  proprietor  of  the  new  hotel,  "  we  have 
every  modern  improvement.     For  instance,  here  is 

an  apartment  that  we  have  just  had  constructed  to  meet  a 

new  demand  on  the  part  of  our  guests." 

The  suite  of  rooms  he  showed  us  was  made  entirely  of 

steel.     The  doors  were  all  hea\y,  with  combination-  and 

time-locks,  and  the  general  appearance  of  the  apartment 

was  that  of  the  best  grade  of  bank-vault. 

"  What's  this  for  ?"  we  ask.     "  Some  millionaire  ?" 
"Oh,  no,"  he  explains.     "  It  is  for  the  use  of  visiting 

maestros  and   impresarios  from   the   old   country.      It  is 

guaranteed  to  be  absolutely  constable-proof." 


The  Stage  Snow-storm. 

THE  pitiless  snow  was  falling  chunkily  on  the  stage. 

The   persecuted  hero  walked  moodily  from  wing  to 
wing,  talking  to  himself 

Persecuted  heroes  always  think  aloud. 

Suddenly  the  writing  on  one  of  the  snowflakes  attracted 
his  attention. 

"  Heavens  !"  he  exclaimed,  whilfe  the  orchestca  burst 
into  one  weird,  shivering  strain.  Heavens  !  It  is  Madge's 
handwriting !  Now  to  follow  up  the  snow-storm  and 
rescue  her  at  last !" 

And  he  left  the  stage  just  as  the  soubrette  came  on  to 
do  her  refined  specialty. 


Her  Easter  Costume. 

FOR  some  tkne  Eve  expressed  her  opinion  to  Adam.     She  had 
small  respect  for  a  man  who  could  not  see  the  necessity  of  a 
woman's  having  a  change  of  garb — at  least  in  the  spring.    She 
told  him  that,  along  with  a  lot  of  other  things.     At  last  she 
shook  him  by  the  shoulder  and  kept  him  awake  long  enough  to  ask, 
"  Am    I   going   to   appear    in    anything   different   to-morrow  ? 
Answer  me  !" 

"I  hope  so,"  said  Adam  wearily.  "  I  hope  you  will  appear  in  a 
different  frame  of  mind.  That's  the  only  change  you  can  make  at 
present,  you  know." 


IT  WAS  "good. 
Mr.  Cod—"  What  do  you  think  of  that  stuff?" 
Mr.  Pike— "Greatest  thing  that  ever  went  down  the  pike. 


NEAR-SIGHTED.. 

^''  Gracious  I   I  will  have  to  get  stronger  glasses. 
U  can't  see  to  read  any  more." 


^  The  Up-to-date  Jail. 

Visitor — "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  these 
luxuriously  fitted  up  apartments  are  cells  ?" 

Warden — "  Certainly  ;  they  are  reserved  ex- 
clusively for  our  wealthy  automobile  prison- 
ers." 


LOOKING  BACKWARD. 
Mr.  Chim-Panzee  {in  the  background)—"  How  foolish  he  looks." 
Mrs.  Chim-Panzee— "Yes.     Now  is  your  chance  to  see  how  you  looked  when  you  proposed  to  me," 


Refinement  of  Torture. 

EPHISTO  took  evident  pleasure  in  wel- 
coming the  wraith  of  the  lady. 

"  It  is  not  often,"  he  smiled,  "  that 
we  must  entertain  one  of  your  sex  in 
our  domain." 

The  lady  bowed  her  thanks,  but 
sniffed  somewhat  at  the  sulphur  per- 
fume. 

"  It  shall  be  abated,"  asserted 
Mephisto. 

The  lady  furthermore  objected  to 
the  heat,  saying-  that  her  hair  lost  its 
curl.  The  fires  were  banked.  Soon 
she  asked  to  be  shown  to  her  apart- 
ment. She  could  scarcely  express  her  delight  at  the  gem  of 
a  room  which  was  hers.  Damask  hangings,  satin  draperies, 
jeweled  bijouterie,  ornate  furniture — all  lent  an  air  of  ex- 
treme elegance  to  the  place. 

Being  assured  that  all  was  perfectly  salisfactor)'  Me- 
phisto bowed  himself  out,  but  lingered  in  the  hallway,  a 
mysterious  grin  darkening  his  features.  Soon  she  opened 
the  door  and  said, 

"  I  find  plenty  of  mirrors  here,  but  no  combs,  brushes, 
or  hairpins." 

"True,"  answered  Mephisto.  "There  is  none  in  the 
place." 

Soon  Dante  was  gathering  material  for  another  chapter, 
for  a  wildly-distracted  and  disheveled  female  was  to  be 
seen  tearing  her  hair  and  beating  her  bosom — and  holding 
a  switch  in  her  hand. 


GOOD   ADVICE. 

Mr.  Sc.\les — "Let  us  go  right  away  from  here,  Miss 
Finn.     Such  language  is  not  fit  for  a  lady  to  hear." 


il-'--^* 


NOT  WANTED. 


Uncle  John — "Automobile,  eh?     Why  don't  you  let  Harry  play  with  you?" 

George  Adolphus — "  We  ar^  letting  him  play.     He's  my  chauffeur,  and  he's  under  arrest." 


m 


"A   CHIP   OF   THE   OLD   BLOCK." 

An  Old  Salt's  Observations. 

YELLER  journalist  crossed  with  me.     "  What  do 

you   use  such  tarnation  big  head-hnes  fei  ?"    I 

asl<ed  of  him.    "  What  do  you  use  such  surprisin' 

big  sails  fer  ?"  he  asked  of  me.     "To  make  th' 

ship  go,"  I  says.     "  Same  with  me,"  says  he. 

I  knew  a  farmer  whose  crops  was  a-sufferin'  from 
drought  to  git  down  on  his  marrow-bones  an'  thank  God 
when  a  shower  come  on.  His  daughter  was  at  the  county 
fair  that  day.  She  come  home  a-cryin'  'cause  th'  rain  had 
spi'led  her  new  hat. 

A  ship's  caulker,  gittin'  a  dol- 
lar an'  a  half  a  day,  might,  by 
doin'  bad  work  with  his  hammer 
an'  his  oakum,  be  responsible  fer 
the  loss  of  a  ship  worth  five  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars  an"  carryin' 
a  hundred  an'  forty-eight  passen- 
gers, besides  th'  crew  an'  fo'c's'le 
cat. 

A  brook-trout  kicked  because 
th'  pool  he  lived  in  was  too  small. 
I  took  him  an'  put  him  in  th' 
ocean.  "  There,"  says  I ;  "  I  reckon 
that'll  be  big  enough  fer  you. 
How  do  you  like  it  ?"  "  Lands 
sake  1"  says  the  brook-trout.  "  It's 
salt,  ain't  it  ?  Take  me  back  home, 
please,  captain." 

I  dropped  a  ten  -  dollar  gold 
piece  overboard  once,  an'  it  sunk 
like  a  shot.  Very  same  day  I 
dropped  an  empty  tomato-can  into 
tl '  boundin'  ocean — an'  I  bet  it's 
floatm'  ye<.     That's  th'  way  with 


men.  I've  seen  solid  merit  that 
seemed  to  be  too  heavy  to  stay 
at  the  top. 

A  sailor  was  cast  on  a  desert 
island  with  sixteen  hunderd  an' 
four  dollars  in  gold  coin,  an'  jest 
exactly  two  hunderd  an"  seventy- 
six  thousan'  dollars  in  one-thou- 
sand-dollar bills.  He  also  had 
a  gun  an'  quite  a  lot  of  powder, 
but  he  didn't  have  no  shot,  an' 
he  was  shy  of  waddiii'.  He  cut 
th'  coin  up  into  slugs  fer  shot  an' 
used  th'  bills  fer  wads.  Then  he 
shot  a  bird  fer  supper.  It  was 
a  very  nice,  fat  bird,  an'  tasted 
mighty  good.  "  Beats  all  what 
money  '11  do  !"  says  he. 

I  knew  a  farmer  that  had  th' 

reputation  of  bein'  awful  careful. 

He'd  spend  six  weeks  considerin' 

'fore  he'd  buy  a  cow.    My  !  how 

careful   he   would   be  examinin' 

that  cow's  meat  an'  milk  an'  dis- 

•  position  !    But  he  married  a  girl 

he'd  only  known   two  weeks,  an' 

then  said  marriage  was  a  failure  'cause  she  couldn't  make 

good  butter. 

Far  Ahead  of  His  Time. 

pvEMOSTHENES  was  practicing  with  pebbles  in  his 
mouth. 

"  How  foolish  !"  said  his  wife.  "  Nobody  is  speaking 
Russian  yet." 

Perceiving  his  wasted  efforts,  he  at  once  abandoned 
his  attempt. 


Lady  {tvAo  is  posing  and  rather  tired ) — "  Oh,  my  dear  Mr.  Doolan,  haven't  you  yet 
got  it  all  right  for  taking  me  ?" 

Mr.  Doolan  {amateur  photographer) — "My  dear  lady,  it'll  be  fine?  You're  just  in 
the  very  attitude.     Come  'round,  now,  and  see  for  yourself." 


Mr.  Hardhart- 

TlRED  TlMMINS- 

wuz  offered  uork." 


APPRECIATIVE. 

'  Nothin'  doin'." 

'  T'anks  fer  de  good  cheer,  anyhow. 


At  de  previous  five  houses  I 


In  a  Thankful  Mood. 

"THE  missionary  leaps  with 

joy  on  the  sandy  shore  of 
the  cannibal  isle  as  the  good 
ship  comes  to  a  landing. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  !" 
he  cries. 

"  Well,"  answers  the  cap- 
tain, "  we  are  glad  to  see 
you.  We  had  our  doubts 
about  finding  you." 

"Oh,  I  have  been  success- 
ful beyond  my  expectations. 
I  have  almost  converted  the 
king  of  the  islands.  He  cap- 
tured me  just  at  the  beginning 
of  Lent,  but  my  arguments 
prevailed  on  him  to  the  ex- 
tent that  he  decided  to  ab- 
stain from  eating  missionaries 
I'or  forty  days.  That's  why 
you  can't  imagine  how  de- 
lighted I  was  to  see  you  com- 
ing, when  Lent  ends  to-mor- 
row." 


« 


Up  to  Him. 
asked  Genevieve  Zoremus, 


do  you  think 


Two  HEDED 

Caff 


EDWARD, 

a  girl  should  propose  ?" 
"  Why,  no,  indeed  !     It  is  beneath  woman's  dignity." 
"  There,  now  I"    said  the  gentle  girl  ;    "  I  told  mamma 

she  was  wrong.     She  said  that  when  a  young  man  came 

to  see  a  girl  every  night  in   the  week  for  two  years,  and 

stayed  for  dinner  every  Sun- 
day, and  smoked  her  father's 

cigars,  and  always  happened 

around  whenever  we  had  any 

company,  so  he  would  be  in- 
vited to  go  to  the  theatre  with 

us,  it  was   the  girl's  privilege 

to  take  it  for  granted  that  he 

was  sincere  in  his  attentions 

and  ask  him  whether  he  pre- 

ferred    a   wedding-trip,    or 

would  rather  just  settle  down 

to  home  life  in  a  neat  little 

cottage." 

Edward  knew  a  hint  when 

a  brick  wall  was  shoved  over 

on  him. 


The  Valedictory. 

Sweet  -  girl  graduate  — 
"  And  now  comes  the  mo- 
mentous time  when  we  start 
the  battle  of  life  " 

Henpekt—"  Gxt3.l  Scott  I 
are  they  all  going  to  marry-  ?" 


A  Great  Wag. 

Old  Scars  — ^'WhAt  did 
Tarantula  Jim  shoot  Polecat  Pete's  left  ear  off  for  ?" 
Alkali  Ike — "  Aw,  just  for  a  joke,  I  reckon." 

An  Eye  for  Business. 

Grandma  Toogood  (solemnly) — "  After  poor  grandma 
dies,  who  will  give  you  any  pennies  ?" 

Terror  Knott  Toogood  (aged  six) — "  Why,  you  w'on't 
take  your  pocket-book  to  heaven,  will  you,  grandma  ?" 


HIS  CURIOSITY  RUNS   AWAV   WTTH   HIM. 


sa 


A  Delicate  Refusal. 

ISS    LOTSOFIT,"    trem- 
bled   the    youth    as    he 
parted  from  her  at  the 
door,   "  there  is   some- 
thing I  must  say  to  you." 

"  Proceed,"  she  urged  him  with 
an  encouraging  smile. 

"  Though  I  am  now  only  a 
poor  inventor,"  he  stammered, 
"  yet  my  air-ship  is  nearer  perfec- 
tion than  ever.  I — I  have  but  two 
ideals  in  life — you  and  my  air- 
ship.    Will  you  marry  me  ?" 

She  was  silent. 

"  Do  not  answer  too  quickly," 
he  begged.  "  Take  time  to  think 
it  over.  I  will  come  again  for  my 
answer.     May  I  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  told  him.  "  Come 
again — come  in  your  air-ship." 

That  night  two  footpads  were 
seriously  affronted  by  a  man  who  utterly  ignored  their  re- 
quests that  he  halt,  but  kept  stonily  on  his  way,  his  head 
down  and  his  shoulders  up. 


Probably  Both. 

U  pPAMINONDES,"  said 
Mr.  Polycrates  Brown 
of  Boston,  drawing  his  son 
across  his  knee,  "this  is  go- 
ing to  hurt  me  worse  than 
it  will  you." 

On  hearing  this  remark, 
Epaminondes  turned  his 
head  and  looked  into  his 
father's  face  with  such  a 
thoughtful  expression  that 
the  parent  dropped  the  strap 
with  which  he  had  intended 
chastising  his  offspring  and 
inquired, 

"  Why  such  a  preoccu- 
pied gaze,  my  child  ?" 

"  Father,"  murmured  lit- 
tle Epaminondes,  "your 
preliminary  remark  led  me 
to  wonder  whether  your 
using  it  was  a  manifestation 
of  atavism  or  the  indelible 
influence  of  heredity." 

In  the  discussion  which 
ensued  the  promised  pun- 
ishment was  forgotten. 

His  View. 

Cra/i — "Time  is  money." 
Crane  (tartly)  —  "  That 
must  be  the  reason  my  wife 
spends  hers  so  foolishly." 


D 


fCLA55-   &IP.LS) 

MOST  IXPtNSlVElY  DRESSEP  BABY 
EXHIBIT      N5       734-0 

NAME»*At  'iru*,^^..:^  Qvx^,^ 


.\    SHOW-GIRL. 


advance  shapes  in 
early-spring  gowns. 
hands  and  went  all 


Did  for  Him. 

UNDERSTAND  old  Mil- 
yons  has  had  to  go  to  a 
sanitarium." 

"  Yes.  Ner\'ous  pros- 
tration. Entirely  done  up.  You 
see,  he  thought  he  was  doing  a 
clever  thing  when  he  gave  his  wife 
and  daughters  passes  over  all  the 
railways  he  controls." 

"  I  see  nothing  wrong  in  that." 
"  Wait  a  minute.     They  went 
to  Canada,  and   there  they  had  to 
buy    full    outfits   of    furs.     Then 
they  came  back  to  New  York,  and 
that  meant  entire  supplies  of  win- 
ter  dresses    and    bonnets.     Two 
weeks  later  they  were  off  to  Flori- 
da.    Spring  bonnets  and  dresses 
there.     Last  week  Milyons  got  a 
letter  from  them  saying  they  were 
coming  liome  in  time  to  buy  the 
spring  hats  and  the  newest  ideas  in 
Then   the    poor  man   threw  up  his 
to  pieces." 


He  Will  Win. 

((  I  ADY  in  four  says  the 
house  is  much  too 
cold,"  announces  the  bell- 
boy. 

"  Tell  her  we  will  turn 
on  all  the  heat  from  the 
boilers,"  directs  the  gentle- 
manly clerk. 

"  Lady  in  eleven  says 
the  house  is  too  warm," 
states  a  second  bell-boy. 

"  Run  up  and  say  we 
have  shut  off  all  the  steam." 

"  Lady  in  forty-four  asks 
me  to  tell  you  the  tempera- 
ture is  e.xactly  what  she  de- 
sires," says  a  third  bell-boy. 

"  Go  back  and  present 
our  compliments  and  tell 
her  we  shall  keep  up  this 
temperature  all  day." 

After  the  last  boy  has 
gone  the  clerk  jots  down 
the  numbers  of  the  rooms, 
looks  at  them  curiously  a 
moment,  then  muses, 

"  Four-eleven-forty-four. 
I  guess  that  it  isn't  good  poli- 
cy to  please  your  guests  !" 


IKEY'S  ACCOMPLISHMENT. 
' '  I  wouldn't  spread  the  eagle,  but  the  dollar-sign- 
do  it  in  ray  sleep." 


•  I  coul-' 


THERE  are  some  people 
*  who  can't  resist  the  sus- 
picion that  Opportunity  is 
trying  to  sell  them  a  gold- 
brick. 


His  Fad. 

raSJE  express  some  surprise  at  seeing  the  vast  stack  of 

l^Ti     bills  payable  on  the  desk  of  our  friend.     Some  of 

them  date  back  at  least  five  years,  and  many  of 

them  have  threats  of  legal  proceedings  written  upon  them. 

"  Why  don't  you  pay  these  things,"  we  ask,  "  and  save 
yourself  all  this  annoyance  ?" 

"Oh,"  he  explains,  "a  man  hates  to  give  up  his  fad." 

"  Fad  ?" 

"  Yes.     Don't  you  know  I  am  a  bill-collector  ?" 


Man  of  Experience. 

IrjIAID  the  fond  mamma,  "  Of  course  we  are  sending 
1^^     Maude  to  the  cooking-school ;  but  it  is  more  a  mat- 

ter  of  form  than   anything  else,  as  the  dear  girl 

thinks  it  is  a  delightful  experience.  Really,  you  know,  it 
is  hardly  probable  that  she  will  marry  a  man  for  whom 
she  will  have  to  cook." 

"  I  certainly  hope  not,"  replied  the  listener,  who  knew 
a  thing  or  two  about  the  handiwork  of  the  cooking-school 
graduates  who  merely  make  a  fad  of  the  studies. 


'^/y/Kj^A 


HARD  LUCK. 
"  And  is  your  husband  resigned,  Mrs.  Gabbit  ?" 
"  Resigned?    Why,  the  doctor  says  he  will  get  well.' 
"  Yes — er — so  I  heard." 


1HAVE  a  nose  that's  very  large,  and  also  ver>'  red. 
It  is  the  leading  feature  of  my  very  level  head 
Because  it's  ever,  so  to  speak,  the  bowsprit  of  my  face  ; 
It  also  is  a  beacon  that  the  bee  lights  on  apace. 


His  Nose. 


And  while  it  is  my  only  pride,  the  which  I  now  confess, 
I  never  let  it  get  into  my  neighbor's  business, 
But  look  at  it  and  study  it.  and  in  my  studies  seek 
To  learn  if  it's  a  Roman  nose,  a  German,  or  a  Greek. 


I'm  certain  it  is  German,  and  you'd  guess,  oh,  never,  why. 
It's  not  because  it's  stubby  and  it's  not  because  it's  high, 
Or  shoots  up  at  an  angle  of,  say.  forty-five  degrees, 
But  all  because  it  scents  aright  the  old  limbiu'ger  cheese, 
That  six  or  seven  miles  away  with  joy  my  soul  o'erflows  ; 
And  that  is  all  I'll  say  about  my  iridescent  nose. 


A  Flash  of  Inspiration. 

ORELY  perplexed,  the  astute  dra- 
matic manager  rubs  his  brows. 

Before  him  are  spread  the 
newspapers  having  the  announce- 
ments of  rival  attractions. 

One  proclaims  :  "  Over  fifty- 
thousand  dollars  spent  in  costum- 
ing this  production." 

"  And,"  sighs  the  astute  mana- 
ger, "  they  are  packing  the  house  each  night." 

Another  rival  declares  :  "  Seventy-five  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  dazzling,  delightful  costumes  worn  by  our  artistes!" 
"  They  are  turning  them  away  right  along,"  moans  the 
astute  manager. 

A  third  rival  shouts  :  "  One  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars  is  invested  in  the  costumes  of  our  magnificent 
company  !" 

"  And   this   show,"   grieves   the   astute   manager,  "  has 


TIT   FOR   TAT. 

Porcupine — "You  carry  your  head  pretty  liigh." 
Giraffe — "  Well,  if  I  do,  I  am  not  stuck  up  as  you  are." 


A  PIPE  DREAM. 

the  theatre-going  public  by  announcing  : 
"  Less  than  twenty-five  dollars  has  been 
expended  on  the  materials  for  the  costumes 
of  the  chorus  and  principals  in  the  marvel- 
ous production  of  '  A  Barefaced  Lie '  by 
Curtain  &  Dropp  !" 

One  week  later  the  members  of  the  rival 
cornpanies  are  counting  ties. 

To  the  Manner  Born. 

Crawford — "  Did  he  have  much  trouble 
in  becoming  a  bridge  policeman  ?" 

Crabsliaiv — "Not  after  it  was  discovered 
out  that  he  used  to  be  a  floor-walker  and 
kept  the  crowd  moving  in  front  of  a  bar- 
gain counter." 


to  put  the  orchestra  under 
the  stage  continually  !" 

Beating  his  head,  he 
ponders.  What  can  he  do  ? 
To  claim  to  have  spent 
two  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars in  costumes  were 
manifestly  absurd.  The 
public  would  hoot  at  him. 

At  last  the  inspiration 
comes  to  him. 

"  I  have  it  !"  he  cries. 
"  The  victory  is  mine  !  I 
will  have  to  run  a  number- 
two  company  next  door  to 
take  care  of  the  overflow 
ipom  the  regular  show  !" 

He  hurries  to  the  news- 
paper offices  and  to  the 
job  printers  and  to  the 
lithographers,  and  amazes 


FROSTY. 
Lady— "What  is  the  matter  with  this  cake,  Mary?" 
Mary— "Ain't  nothin'  th'  matther  wid  th'  cake,  but  Oi  shlipped  up  on  th'  oicing.' 


The  Ingenious  In- 
ventor. 

((  VES,"  says  the  in- 
dividual with 
the  bulging  brow  and 
the  restless  eyes  ;  "  I 
am  the  man  who  in- 
vented indoor  base- 
ball, indoor  tennis, 
indoor  croquet,  and 
indoor  golf." 

We  view  him  with 
undisguised  amaze- 
ment. 

"  And,"  we  ven- 
ture, "  are  you  study- 
ing up  any  more  in- 
ventions ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  care- 
lessly answers.  ''  I 
am  now  completing 
a  simple  form  of  in- 
door ballooning,  and 
next  year  I  will  have 
my  indoor  mountain- 
climbing  on  the  mar- 
ket, which  is  sure  of  success. 


Post-post-prandial. 

((  IS  he  a  good  after-dinner  speaker  ?" 
•       •'  Yes — after  dinner  the  next  day." 


/ 


l^'7^_^4\^m^'^    ^" 


SHE   HAD   THE  WEIGHT. 
Pat — "  Shure,  this  is  phwat  a  man  gits  fer  marryin'  out  av  his  class.' 


The  Final  Usurpa- 
tion. 

THE  first  robin  to 
reach  the  north- 
land  turns  in  his  flight 
after  a  few  hours'  in- 
spection of  the  land 
and  goes  back  to  the 
sunny  south  at  re- 
doubled speed. 

"  It's  no  use,"  he 
says  to  his  friends  and 
kindred,  who  are  pre- 
paring for  the  annual 
migration  ;  "  we  may 
as  well  stay  here  for 
the  summer  from  now 
on." 

"  Why,  what's  the 
matter  ?"  twitter  the 
surprised  birds. 

"  Matter  enough ! 
Those  English  spar- 
rows are  dyeing  their 
breasts  red  and  learn- 
ing to  chirp." 


An  Impostor. 

Tie  reporter — "  He  says  he's  from  Kentucky." 
The  editor — "  But  he  never  shot  anybody,  and  I  can't 
/ecall  his  name  on  any  of  the  state  tickets." 


HER  IDEA. 


Sunday 
Mary 


\Y-SCH00I,  TEACHER — "How  many  animals  went  into  the  ark,  Mary  ?" 

— "  All  that  wasn't  lost  under  th"  sofa,  or  broke,  or  layin'  on  th'  back  stairs,  I  guess." 


MISS  KITTY'S  PROPOSALS 


By  W.  W.  AUUCK 


T 


HE  place  is  too  pitifully  prosaic  for  words," 
complained  Miss  Kitty  Kildare  poutfully, 
tracing  on  the  sand  witii  the  point  of  her 
pink  parasol  a  most  affrightingly  grotesque 
figure  ;  "  here  three  days  and  not  even  a 
proposal !" 

She  stabbed  the  beach  savagely  with  the 
ferrule  of  her  sun  shield,  then  suddenly  sat  bolt  upright 
in  the  stationary  chair  which  was  hers  for  the  season. 
The  ever-dancing  light  in  the  big  brown  eyes  flashed  with 
a  swift  accession  of  fire,  the  parasol  dropped  from  her 
dimpled  fingers,  and  she  sat  with  her  bare  elbows  resting 
on  her  knees,  staring  intently  into  the  boisterous  sea. 
Then  slowly  she  rose,  gathering  up  her  skirts  and  tread- 
ing daintily  across  the  strip  to  the  short  boardwalk  which 
led  to  the  road,  noting  not  the  laughing  bathers  in  the 
surf  or  the  tanned  loungers  on  the  shore. 

"Not  a  bad-looking  girl,  that  Miss  Kildare,"  mused 
Montgomery,  the  big-bodied  young  broker,  watching  her 
from  his  seat  'neath  the  arbor.  "  I  must  find  more  time 
for  cultivating  her." 

"  Regular  picture -girl,"  decided  little  Stewart,  the  law- 
yer ;  "  she  blends  beautifully  with  that  gentle  ocean  breeze. 
Guess  I'll  see  a  bit  more  of  her." 

Meantime,  Miss  Kildare  gained  the  roadway  and  stepped 
into  the  dog-cart  drawn  by  the  fat  little  pony  Pronto,  so 
called  on  account  of  his  undeviating  dislike  of  fast  motion. 
It  is  to  be  said  of  Pronto,  the  pony,  that  not  only  did  he 
regard  the  frequently  posted  warnings  as  to  illegal  speeds 
— he  actually  anticipated  them.  And  so  it  was  that  Miss 
Kildare  reachecj  the  hotel  not  so  soon  as  she  wished,  and 
jumping  hastily  from  the  cart,  bitterly  reproached  Pronto 
for  his  deliberateness,  to  the  which  Pronto  responded  by 
showing  his  teeth  in  a  smile  of  faint  derision. 

Miss  Kildare  hurried  to  her  room,  sought  her  writing- 
desk  and  wrote  rapidly  for  ten  minutes.  Then  she 
stretched  back  in  the  chair,  chewed  abstractedly  on  the 
end  of  the  penholder  a;>d  read  her  composition.  In  all, 
she  had  written  two  letters,  and  the  first  of  these  was 
thus :  ■> 

"  My  dkar  Mr.  Montgomery  :  I  scarcely  know  how 
to  set  about  answering  you,  because  the  task  is  certainly 
the  most  distasteful  I  have  ever  had  put  to  me.  The 
words  I  should  like  to  use  will  not  come  freely,  and  the 
words  that  do  suggest  themselves  are  much  too  hackneyed 
to  be  used  on  such  an  occasion.  Of  course  I  might  tell 
you  that  I  am  immensely  honored  by  the  offer  you  have 
made  me,  and  sincerely  regret  that  I  am  not  able  to  do  as 
you  wish.  And,  after  all,  I  fancy  that  is  the  best  thing 
for  me  to  say.  The  expression  is  not  new,  but  it  is  won- 
drously  true.  I  do  greatly  respect  you,  Mr.  Montgomery, 
and  I  do  very  earnestly  thank  you  for  asking  me  to  be 
your  wife,  but  I  cannot  marry  you.     You  have  been  so 


frank  and  manly  with  me  that  I  feel  a  like  candor  is  due 
you.  When  I  say  I  do  not  care  for  you  in  that  way,  it  is 
because  I  do  care  for  some  one  else  in  that  way,  and  this 
makes  me  the  more  considerate  of  your  feelings  because 
that  some  one  has  as  yet  given  no  sign  that  the  sentiment 
is  mutual.  He  is  all  things  that  are  worthy — as  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  is  staying  here  for  the  season,  and  you  must 
know  him  and  his  many  fine  qualities — and  he  has  won  my 
heart.  I  do  not  say  this  in  the  spirit  to  eialt  him  at  this 
time,  but  rather  because  I  wish  you  to  know  just  why  I 
cannot  answer  you  as  you  wish,  and  also  to  prove  to  you  that 
others  suffer  in  affairs  of  this  sort  besides  yourself.  I  trust 
that  things  being  as  they  are  will  not  make  any  change 
in  our  friendship.  I  respect  you  highly  and  shall  value 
your  continued  acquaintance — but  my  love  is  no  longer 
mine  to  give.     Believe  me, 

"  Very,  very  sincerely  yours, 

"  Katherine  Kildare." 

The  other  letter  occupied  the  same  number  of  pages, 
as  indeed,  why  should  it  not,  seeing  that,  word  for  word, 
the  notes  were  indentical  ?  The  only  difference  was  in 
the  address.  The  second  epistle  started,  "  My  dear  Mr. 
Stewart." 

Miss  Kildare  addressed  two  envelopes,  following  her 
critical  inspection  of  her  product.  The  one  superscrip- 
tion was, 

Mr.  Martin  Montgomery, 

The  Twiggeries, 
Important.  Town.  r 

As  for  the  other  envelope,  the  legend  ran, 
Mr.  Donald  Stewart, 

Hotel  Hollyhock, 
Important.  Town. 

Whereupon,  with  an  inscrutable  look  in  the  still  danc- 
ing eyes.  Miss  Kitty  Kildare  folded  and  properly  creased 
the  note  of  rejection  to  Mr.  Montgomery  and  inclosed  it 
in  the  envelope  directed  to  Mr.  Stewart.  This  leaving 
one  note  and  one  envelope.  Miss  Kildare  effected  a  com- 
bination by  placing  the  letter  to  Mr.  Stewart  in  the  wrap- 
per marked  for  Mr.  Montgomery,  sealed  the  correspond- 
ence, and,  tripping  lightly  to  the  reading-room,  dropped 
both  communications  in  the  mail-box  and  sighed  raptur- 
ously. 

Mr.  Martin  Montgomery,  at  jreakfast  next  morning, 
devouring  the  stock  list  in  the  city  paper  with  almost  as 
much  relish  as  he  did  the  porterhouse  and  grilled  eggs, 
grumblingly  laid  aside  the  market  report  as  an  attendant 
handed  him  a  letter.  The  momentary  ill-humor  speedily 
gave  place  to  curiosity  as  the  young  broker  regarded  the 
envelope. 

"  Postmarked  here,"  he  commented,  "  and  in  the  hand- 


writing  of  a  woman.     And  '  town,'  too.     I  don't  believe  I 
l<now  any  girl  here  who  writes  to  me." 

He  tore  open  the  envelope  in  a  puzzled  sort  of  way,  and 
the  air  of  mystification  with  which  he  had  received  the 
note  heigiitened  as  he  read  the  first  few  lines.  Then  he 
laid  the  letter  down  and  picked  up  the  envelope,  which  he 
examined  with  the  utmost  care.  This,  too,  he  laid  down, 
and  for  a  full  minute  he  regarded  the  ceiling  with  an  in- 
tentness  which  drew  out  the  respectful  alarm  of  the  head- 
waiter.  Then  he  put  the  envelope  in  his  pocket  and  read 
the  letter  slowly  and  painstakingly. 

After  breakfast  he  walked  out  in  the  sycamore  grove 
and  dropped  into  a  shaded  arbor,  where  again  he  read 
the  letter  written  liy  Miss  Kildare  and  rejecting  Mr.  Stew- 
art.    Finally  his  thoughts  took  shape. 

"So  little  Stewart  has  been  proposing  to  Miss  Kildare, 
eh  ?"  he  mused.  "And  been  properly  turned  down,  eh  ? 
Well,  why  not?  What  could  a  goddessy  creature  like 
that  girl  see  in  a  little  two-by-four  lawyer  ?  Wlien  she 
marries,  I'll  bet  she  marries  some  man  she  will  have  to  look 
up  to,  a  big,  athletic  fellow  who  can  protect  her,  a  fellow 
like — well,  well,  what  am  I  thinking  of?  Now,  I  wonder 
who  the  man  is  she's  in  love  with,"  thus  ran  the  thoughts 
of  Mr.  Montgomery.  "  She  says  he's  staying  here.  Why, 
she's  only  been  here  herself  three  days.  She  can't  have 
become  acquainted  with  verj'  many.  Let's  try  the  process 
of  elimination." 

Mr.  Montgomery  thus  indulged  himself  for  a  few  min- 
utes, when  a  strange  look  came  into  his  eyes,  a  look  as  of 
appreciation  and  quasi-pity  and  speculation.  Gradually 
the  speculation  passed  away  and  smug  satisfaction  reigned. 
He  re-read  that  portion  of  Miss  Kildare's  letter  to  Stewart 
dwelling  on  the  loss  of  the  lady's  affections. 

"  '  He's  all  things  worthy,'  eh  ?  Well,  she's  a  fine  little 
girl,  and  I'm  really  sorry  for  her.  Thinks  I  haven't  given 
any  sign  of  returning  her  affection,  eh  ?  Poor  little  thing  ! 
I'll  have  to  be  more  considerate  of  her.  Of  course  she  is 
quite  right  about  the  sentiment  not  being  mutual,  but  I 
can't  see  a  girl  like  that  suffer.  1 11  pay  her  a  little  more 
attention  in  the  future,  and  I  do  hope  she  will  get 
over  her  infatuation." 

It  will  be  seen  that  careful  self-examination 
and  a  studious  reading  of  the  note  to  Stewart  had 
brought  Mr.  Montgomery  to  a  position  where  he 
could  not  very  well  ignore  the  regrettable  effect 
of  his  charm. 

"  Now,  about  this  letter,"  ran  on  the  big  bro- 
ker, "  I  can't  very  well  send  it  to  Stewart  after  the 
seal  has  been  broken,  and  I  don't  feel  like  hand- 
ing it  back  to  Miss  Kildare,  because  the  poor 
child  would  be  frightfully  embarrassed  if  she 
knew  I  had  learned  her  feelings  toward  me.  I 
fancy  Stewart  will  be  hanging  around  her,  any- 
way, and  will  get  his  refusal  orally." 

And  with  this  reflection  Mr.  Montgomery 
stuffed  the  note  in  his  pocket  and  strolled  down 
toward  the  beach,  where  Miss  Kitty  might  rea- 
sonably be  expected  to  be  found. 

About  the  time  Mr.  Montgomery,  in  the  break- 
fast-room of  The  Twiggeries,  was  reading  the 


rejection  of  Mr.  Donald  Stewart,  that  rising  young  lawyer 
was  performing  a  similar  service  for  Mr.  Montgomery. 

"There  is  one  thing  to  be  said  of  her,"  admitted  Mr. 
Stewart,  after  he  had  grasped  the  substance  of  the  note 
and  comprehended  that  the  lady  had  made  a  mistake  in 
the  inclosures,  "she  is  a  girl  of  a  good  deal  of  sense.  I 
am  right  glad  she  has  sent  that  long-legged  ass  Mont- 
gomery about  his  business.  Now  as  to  this  other  refer- 
ence " 

The  legal  mind  worked  fast,  the  circumstantial  evi- 
dence was  strong,  and  the  inevitable  conclusion  warranted 
Stewart  in  stealing  a  glimpse  of  his  features  in  the  dining- 
room  mirror. 

"She's  just  like  the  rest  of  them,"  he  thought  on,  with 
the  petty  vanity  of  a  little  man.  "  I  can't  pay  them  the 
slightest  attention,  but — oh,  well,  what's  the  use  ?  The 
damage  is  done  now,  and  it  is  my  place  to  undo  it  as  far 
as  I  can  by  treating  her  in  the  manner  best  calculated  to 
show  her  the  case  is  hopeless.  She  will  be  wise  enough 
to  see  that  it  is  all  for  the  best." 

Then  another  suggestioji  occurred  to  the  apostle  ol 
Blackstone.  If  he  had  in  an  envelope  addressed  to  him  a 
letter  intended  for  Montgomery,  it  was  logical  to  suppose 
that  Montgomery  had  a  letter  intended  for  Stewart,  and 
the  latter  wondered  what  it  was  Miss  Kildare^  had  been 
writing  him  about.  This  he  would  ascertain,  and  then 
set  about  reconciling  Miss  Kildare  to  the  renunciation  she 
must  make.  As  for  Montgomery's  letter,  Stewart  would 
retam  that.  He  was  too  good  a  lawyer  to  voluntarily  part 
with   important  documentary   evidence.      Having   settled 


THE  ONLY   CONTINUOUS  VAUDEVILLE. 


sS'~'\(^^'  -"  -     V^      "i    '•^   M     fi     ^  »    .»~^c-c■»- 


THE    UNCERTAINTIES   OF   GOLF. 
'  I  drove  a  ball  over  in  this  direction.     Did  you  see  where  it  landed  ?" 
'  No  ;  but  I  can  put  my  hand  on  the  spot." 


ihese  matters  to  his  satisfaction,  he  climbed  into  a  Hotel 
Hollyhock  vehicle  and  was  driven  to  the  beach. 

Miss  Kitty  Kildare  sat  in  her  beach-chair,  just  at  the 
edge  of  the  arbor,  tracing  in  the  glistening  white  sand 
with  the  point  of  her  parasol,  the  subjects  being  Cupids 
nnd  hearts  and  doves,  with  due  allowance  for  the  lady's 
originality  of  conception  and  limitations  of  execution.  A 
few  chairs  away,  pleasantly  out  of  earshot,  taking  into  ac- 
count the  friendly  murmur  of  the  sea,  Miss  Kitty's  aunt, 
Mildred,  dozed  luxuriously  and  decorously.  Miss  Kitty  was 
not  batliing,  because  one  cannot  be  beautiful  and  bathe 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  no  matter  what  the  sentiment- 
alists may  tell  you.  If  you  have  hair  and  let  it  fall  down 
your  back,  you  will  be  a  spectacle  two  minutes  after  the  sea 
has  drenched  you.  And  if  you  confine  your  hair  under 
one  of  those  red,  white,  or  blue  rubber  caps,  the  effect  is 
not  inspiring.  It  is  far  and  away  the  part  of  wisdom  to 
sit  daintily  on  the  beach,  clad  all  in  white,  from  ties  to 
straw  hat,  looking  as  fresh  as  the  morning  and  as  cool  as 
the  waters  of  a  mountain  spring — that  is,  if  there  is  a 
task  before  you  requiring  delicacy  of  handling. 

And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  such  a  self-appointed  task  lay 
directly  ahead  of  Miss  Kitty  Kildare,  and  even  now  ap- 
proached her,  in  the  somewhat  puffing  person  of  good 
Master  Donald  Stewart. 

The  young  man  gave  an  execrable  imitation  ot  surprise 
at  the  sight  of  the  all-white  vision  in  the  beach-chair, 
paused  as  if  he  really  had  been  intending  to  pass  on  to  the 
other  end  of  the  bathing-ground,  and  then  remarked  that 
the  day  was  fine  but  a  bit  sticky. 
9 


Miss  Kildare  explained  that  this  was  the  humidity,  and 
expressed  the  opinion  that  the  proper  place  for  water  was 
in  the  sea  and  not  in  the  air.  Mr.  Stewart  agreed  with 
this  very  reasonable  view  and  was  invited  to  sit  beside 
Miss  Kildare. 

"  In  fact,"  said  the  lady,  "  I  have  something  to  say  to 
you.  I  almost  wrote  you  a  note  about  it  yesterday.  I 
got  as  far  as  the  envelope,  then  I  thought  i  would  wait 
until  I  saw  you,  for  there  really  was  no  need  of  haste." 

"  So  she  directed  an  envelope  to  me  and  it  lay  there 
when  she  had  finished  Montgomery's  letter,"  thought  Stew- 
art. "That  accounts  for  it."  Then  he  asked  what  had 
been  the  purport  of  the  note  that  was  never  written. 

"  Aunt  is  going  to  get  up  a  yachting  party  for  me," 
explained  Miss  Kildare,  "and  she  doesn't  know  very  much 
about  these*  things,  for  nearly  all  her  life  has  been  spent 
in  inland  cities,  where  they  do  not  yacht.  And  I  don't 
know  much  about  it,  either.  So  we  thought  we  would 
ask  your  advice,  because  everyone  says  you  are  such  an 
experienced  sailor." 

"She  has  noted  everyone  of  my  likes  and  peculiari- 
ties," thought  Stewart  compassionately.  "She  is  really 
a  very  pretty  girl."  Which  utterly  disconnected  ideas 
were  followed  by  his  reply  that  he  would  consider  the 
major  domo-ing  of  Miss  Kildare's  yachting  party  the 
proudest  privilege  of  his  life.  Miss  Kildare  thanked  him 
very  prettily  and  smiled,  and  Mr.  Stewart  noted  that  her 
teeth  were  as  milky  and  regular  as  the  white  keys  on  a 
piano.  "  See  here,  boy,"  counseled  Mr.  Stewart  to  him- 
self, "you've  been  losing  a  lot  of  time.  This  young  lady 
is  worth  the  most  assiduous  cultivation." 


Whereupon  he  made  himself  very  agreeable,  and  in 
thus  pleasing  Miss  Kitty  immensely  pleased  himself,  which 
is  ever  the  aim  of  his  kind.  So  absorbed,  indeed,  were 
the  merry  pair  that  they  did  not  notice  that  for  the  last 
quarter  of  an  hour  Mr.  Martin  Montgomery  had  been 
stalking  up  and  down  the  sand,  casting  now  and  again  a 
furtive  glance  in  their  direction. 

"  Silly  little  shrimp,"  growled  the  broker  ;  "  he  wouldn't 
be  laughing  quite  so  heartily  if  he  knew  what  I  have  in 
my  pocket.  And  how  well  the  girl  carries  it  off.  She 
must  be  surprised  that  Stewart  has  sought  her  out  after 
she  had  dismissed  him,  but  she  is  such  a  thoroughbred 
she  accepts  the  situation  with  the  greatest  grace.  I  sup- 
pose she  thinks  Stewart  has  decided  to  accept  the  advice 
she  gave  him  about  friendship  and  all  that.  But  I'll  bet 
I  wouldn't  go  hanging  around  a  girl  who  had  turned  me 
down.  But  oh,  he  doesn't  know  he's  been  refused," 
thought  Montgomery,  with  a  start.  "  Say,  this  is  getting 
somewhat  complicated.  I  wish  he'd  get  through.  I  want 
to  talk  to  her  myself.  She  looks  glorious  this  morning. 
There,  some  one  has  called  him  away." 

And  the  coast  being  clear,  Montgomery,  without  too 
much  haste,  made  his  way  over  to  where  Miss  Kildare  sat, 
a  picture  of  demure  serenity,  with  the  possible  exception 
of  a  light  which  danced  out  now  and  then  from  the  glori. 
cus  brown  eyes  and  transformed  her  into  a  veritable  imp 
of  mischief.  Kitty  greeted  the  tall  broker  cordially,  and 
expressed  a  growing  belief  in  the  hidden,  the  mystic,  and 
the  incomprehensible. 


THE  ALTAR. 

Said  the  sweet  and  single  maiden, 

"  Will  you  tell  me,  if  you  can. 
Why  the  lovingest  of  lovers 

Is  no  sooner  wedded  than 
He  becomes  the  careless  husband 

Of  the  matrimonial  plan  ?" 


THE   OBJECTIONS 


CANNIBAL. 


"  Oh,  it  is  the  marriage  alter!" 
Said  the  bitter  married  man. 


'■  Brother,  why  do  you  object  to  Christianity  ?" 

"  Because  I  've  always  found  it  hard  to  keep  a  good  man  down." 

"  Because,"  she  said,  "  I  was  thinking  of  you  at  the 
very  minute  you  appeared.  Is  that  mental  telepathy,  or 
thought  transference,  or  Christian  science,  or  what  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  the  scientific  term,"  said  Montgomery, 
with  easy  gallantry,  "  but  I  should  unhesitatingly  charac- 
terize it  as  delightful  to  be  thought  of  by  Miss  Kildare." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  went  on  the  lady,  ignoring  the  compli- 
ment ;  ■'  I  was  thinking  about  you  just  now,  and  I  was 
thinking  about  you  yesterday.  There  was  something  I 
wanted  to  ask  you  about,  and  I  even  set  out  to  write  you 
a  note.  I  got  as  far  as  the  envelope,  and  then  something 
distracted  my  attention." 

"That  was  hardly  fair  to  me,"  suggested  Montgomery. 

"  It  was  a  letter  just  handed  me,"  said  the  girl,  "  and  it 
required  an  early  answer.  When  I  remembered  about 
you,  I  decided  I  would  wait  and  speak  to  you,  as  I  thought 
surely  you  would  be  on  Ihe  beach." 

"  With  such  an  attraction,"  said  Montgomery,  "  the 
beach  ought  to  play  to  capacity.  May  I  ask  what  it  w-as 
you  were  going  to  ask  me  ?" 

"Why,  you  see,"  said  the  girl,  "auntie  and  I  want  to 
get  up  an  amateur  theatrical  entertainment  for  charity, 
and  we  don't  know  much  about  the  details  of  manage- 
ment. Everybody  says  you're  a  splendid  amateur  stage 
manager,  and  we  wanted  to  ask  if  you  would  take  charge 
of  the  affair  for  us." 

"  You  are  doing  me  a  positive  favor  when  you  suggest 
it, "  said  Montgomery  warmly.  And  he  added  mentally, 
"  How  graceful  she  is  !  she  would  make  an  ideal  Juliet— 
and  I  should  like  to  play  Romeo  to  her  !" 

Then  they  fell  to  discussing  the  plan,  and  were  deep 
in  the  details  when  Stewart  came  hurrying  away  from 
the  interrupting  friends. 

"  Well,"  he  stormed,  "just  see  that  lumbering  Mont- 
gomery paying  attention  to  that  pretty  girl  !  I  never  saw 
such  assurance  in  my  life.  I  fancy  a  sight  of  a  certain 
letter  would  take  the  conceit  jut  of  him."     And  the  little 


lawyer  walked  over  to  the  pair,  because  he  was  not  going 
to  resign  any  of  his  rights  to  a  man  who  was  not  even  a 
rival. 

The  gentlemen  greeted  each  other  with  distant  po- 
liteness, and  the  talk,  perforce,  became  general.  When 
Montgomery  caught  a  darting  glimpse  from  the  big, 
brown  eyes  he  read  the  message,  "  What  an  awful  bore 
this  little  man  is  ;  I  wish  he  would  go,  so  we  could  resume 
our  intimate  talk."  And  when  the  brown  eyes  favored 
Stewart  with  a  swift,  comprehending  glance,  he  interpreted 
it,  "Now,  why  couldn't  that  fellow  have  stayed  away? 
We  were  having  such  a  delightful  time  together." 

Neither  gentleman  showing  signs  of  retreat,  and  the 
conversation  by  now  having  become  practically  a  mono- 
logue by  Miss  Kildare,  the  situation  was  rapidly  becom- 
ing strained,  as  they  say  in  diplomatic  circles,  when  Aunt 
Mildred  providentially  awakened,  and  the  girl,  excusing 
herself,  hastened  over  to  her  relative.  Then  Mr.  Mont- 
gomery strolled  south  along  the  beach  and  Mr.  Stewart 
strolled  north  along  the  beach,  and  Miss  Kitty  Kildare 
explained  to  her  aunt  that  they  were  going  to  have  a  de- 
lightful time,  for  Mr.  Stewart  was  going  to  arrange  a 
yachting  party  for  them,  and  Mr.  Montgomery  would  get 
up  some  amateur  theatricals. 

The  yachting  party  was  a  merry  affair,  particularly  lor 


The  latter  was   full  of  inl- 
and looked  more  than  ever 


Miss  Kilty  and  Mr.  Stewart. 

portance  in  his  new  flannels 

like  a  fat  Brownie.     He  moved  over  the  boat  with  an  air 

of  proprietorship,  tenderly  solicitous  of  the  comfort  of  all 

the  ladies,  with  an  especial  watchfulness  as  regarded  the 

wants  of  Miss  Kildare. 

Of  all  the  party,  Mr.  Montgomery  alone  was 
gloomy.  He  stalked  about  like  the  ghost  at  the 
banquet,  and  experienced  Cain-like  feelings  as  he 
beheld  the  favor  in  which  Stewart  was  esteemed. 
"  Of  course  I'm  not  in  love  with  the  girl  or  anything 
like  that,"  argued  Montgomerj',  "  but  still  I  can't 
bear  to  see  her  wasting  her  time  on  that  little 
apology  for  a  man." 

In  the  blue  and  white  of  her  yachting  costume 
Miss  Kitty  looked  ravishing,  and  there  was  small 
cause  for  wonder  that  she  should  be  the  centre  of 
attraction.  It  was  long  before  the  chafing  Mont- 
gomery could  manage  a  word  in  private  with  her, 
and  then,  throwing  caution  to  the  breezes,  he  spoke 
freely  of  the  situation. 

"I  have  been  trying  all  day  to-get  speech  with 
you,"  he  said,  "  but  you  have  been  so  busy  listening 
to  what  Mr.  Stewart  has  been  saying  you  haven't 
had  time  for  any  one  else." 

"  Oh,  but  you  mustn't  say  anything  against  Mr. 
Stewart,"  said  the  girl  gently. 

"  Now,  see  here,"  said  Montgomery  masterfully, 
"  you  don't  care  for  Stewart,  and  you  know  it." 

"  But  Mr.  Stewart — ca — that  is,  Mr.  Stewart  is 
very  nice  to  me,  and  you  have  to  be  nice  to  persons 
who  are  nice  to  you,  don't  you  ?" 

•'You  mean  Stewart  cares  for  you,"  said  Mont- 
gomery rapidly.  "  I  know  he  does.  But  what  then  ? 
Others  care  for  you,  too." 


"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Miss  Kildare  dreamily. 

"You  do  know,"  contradicted  Montgomery.  "You 
must  know.     Oh,  Kitty,  I  " 

"There,"  said  Kitty,  moving  away,  "  my  Aunt  Mil- 
dred is  calling  me,"  and  she  left  Montgomery  savagely 
kicking  an  unoffending  coil  of  rope. 

Next  day  Montgomery  proposed,  and  was  told  to  wait ; 
he  should  have  his  answer  in  a  little  while.  And  very 
impatiently  he  waited.  The  preparations  for  the  theatri- 
cals helped  some,  just  as  again  they  combined  to  fill  the 
soul  of  Montgomery  with  added  anxiety.  The  rehearsals 
brought  Kitty  very  close  to  him,  and  of  course  this  was 
most  desirable,  but  at  the  same  time  there  was  the  un- 
certainty. .  If  Kitty  should  refuse  him  the  present  propin- 
quity would  have  been  but  an  extra  cause  for  regret.  On 
the  whole,  however,  Montgomery,  in  daily  possession  of 
Kitty,  was  in  a  position  more  enviable  than  was  Stewart. 

The  lawyer,  since  the  day  of  the  yachting  party,  had 
come  to  regard  Kittv's  affection  for  him  as  an  understood 
thing,  else  why  should  she  have  elevated  him  as  she  had 
done  ?  But  now,  here  were  these  confounded  theatricals 
coming  on  and  taking  up  all  her  time,  and  throwing  her 
constantly  into  the  society  of  Montgomery.  Finally  Stew- 
art pocketed  his  pride  and  applied  to  the  stage-manager 
for  a  place  in  the  cast. 

"  All  right,"  said  Montgomery  cheerily,  "I've  got  just 
the  part  left  that  will  suit  you." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  Stewart  eagerly. 

"  Well,  you  know,"  said  Montgomery,  "in  the  second 
act  there  is  a  scene, on  the  dock  of  an  ocean  liner.  She  is 
just  about  to  sail  away.     There  are  a  number  of  bearded 


A  FONETIC  ADVANTAGE. 

"  There's  wan  foine  thing  about  this  foonatic  shpellin' — a  man  kin 
come  home  full  as  a  goat  an'  wroite  jist  as  sinsibie  a  shpelt  letter  as  he 
kin  whin  he's  sober." 


THE  BACHELOR'S   WUNDKR. 
Fair  maid,  in  all  your  many  guises, 
in  any  hat,  whate'er  tlie  size  is, 
In  winter  garb,  chic,  tailor-shaped. 
Or  summer  frou-frou,  gauzes,  draped, 
Your  charm  ne'er  fails.     One  thought  arises- 
We  wonder,  wonder  what  the  price  is, 

And  if  we 

Could  finance  so  much  finery. 


the  slightest  regard  for  grammar  ;  "  me  be  a  bearded  old 
salt  and  let  you  knock  me  over  the  head  !  You  must 
think  I'm  crazy  I"  and  he  walked  away  muttering  strange 
things. 

"Now,  there's  an  unreasonable  fellow,"  murmured 
Montgomery;  "give  him  a  nice  fat  part  that  anybody 
would  jump  at  the  chance  of  playing,  and  what  does  he 
do  ?  Goes  up  in  the  air.  There's  no  pleasing  some  per- 
sons." 

"Going  to  play  the  hero  himself,  is  he  ?"  thought  Mr. 
Stewart,  smarting  under  his  wrongs.  "  And  that  will 
give  him  the  chance  to  make  love  to  Kitty."  For  some 
time  past  Mr.  Stewart  had  been  thinking  of  Miss  Kildare 
as  "  Kitty."  "He  doesn't  seem  to  understand  that  his 
society  is  distasteful  to  the  lady  and  that  she  loves  an- 
other. And  she,  poor  girl,  thinking  he  knows  her  senti- 
ments, is  just  treating  him  with  comm.on  politeness." 

Mr.  Stewart's  steps  led  him  to  the  hotel  where  Miss 
Kildare  and  her  aunt  were  staying,  and  though  the  young 
lady  was  very  busy  reading  her  part,  she  gave  him  an 
audience.     Wasn't  Mr.  Stewart  going  to  be  in  the  play  ? 

No  ;  Mr.  Stewart  wasn't  going  to  be  in  the  play.  And 
without  more  ado  Mr.  Stewart  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that 
Mr.  Montgomery,  in  the  allotment  of  the  parts,  was  guided 
less  by  motives  of  art  than  by  considerations  of  crafti- 
ness. 

"  Now,  please  don't  say  such  things,"  begged  Miss 
Kildare.  "  Mr.  Montgomery  is  a  very  nice  man,  I'm 
sure,  and  always  doing  things  for  people." 

"  He  may  be  always  doing  things  for  you,"  said  Stew- 
art ;  "  but  that  is  very  easy  to  understand.  But  you  don't 
care  for  him.     I  know  you  don't." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can  know  that,"  said  Miss  Kil- 
dare. "  Besides,  I  have  just  told.you  I  thought  him  very 
nice.  " 

"  Other  persons  would  be  glad  to  be  always  doing 
things  for  you,"  went  on  Mr.  Stewart  tenderly,  and  then 
his  soul  rushed  forth,  for  he  said,  "  Oh,  Kitty,  dear,  they 
won't  let  me  play  the  hero  in  this  stupid  little  piece,  but 
won't  you  let  me  play  it  with  you  for  all  time  ?" 

"  Are  you  asking  me  to  marry  you  ?"  queried  Kitty. 

"■Why,  yes,"  said  Stewart  in  some  surprise. 

And  he,  too,  was  told  to  wait. 


old  salts  sitting  on  the  string-piece.  Just 
ns  the  last  warning  whistle  is  being  sound- 
ed the  hero  appears  and  dashes  toward 
the  gangplank.  One  of  the  old  salts  has 
risen  to  walk  away,  and  the  hero,  in  his 
rush  to  make  the  ship,  collides  with  him 
and  topples  him  over  in  the  water." 

"  Ah,"  said  Mr.  Stewart  amiably, 
"  my  part  is  the  hero,  eh?" 

"  Wliy,  no,"  explained  Mr.  Montgom- 
ery ;  "  I  have  been  cast  for  that  part  my- 
selt.  You  are  the  old  salt  who  gets  top- 
pled over  in  the  water.  It's  a  splendid 
comedy  part  and  good  for  a  big  laugh." 

Mr.  Stewart  wondered  if  he  had  heard 
aright. 

"  Who,    me  ?"    he    sputtered,  without 


FELLOW  CI' 
BRItrHT 


iz.EMS,i  VltwetFO'  ME   A  VAST  S>eA  OF 
FACES   -.'. 


J&ry%  *  '•i  o-^ 


GEOGRAPHICAL— THE  BLACK  SEA. 


Alter  the  amateur  theatricals  each  man  was  more  hope- 
lessly in  love  than  ever,  and  even  Kitty  began  to  experi- 
(nce  the  qualms  of  pity.  "Of  course  they  deserved  it," 
leasoned  the  girl,  "  but  I  think  they've  been  punished 
sufficiently."  So  she  wrote  a  note  to  Stewart,  making  an 
appointment  at  her  hotel  for  three  o'clock,  and  a  similar 
note  to  Montgomery,  appointing  ten  minutes  past  three  as 
the  time  she  would  give  her  decision.  Then,  to  carry  the 
little  comedy  to  a  conclusion,  she  wrote  two  other  notes 
and  left  them  with  the  clerk  at  the  desk,  saying  one  was 
to  be  handed  Mr.  Stewart,  and  the  other  given  to  Mr. 
Montgomery  when  those  gentlemen  should  call.  The 
note  to  Mr.  Stewart  read  : 

"  At  the  last  minute  I  find  I  cannot  say  to  you  what  is 
in  my  mind,  and  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  speak  with  Mr. 
Montgomery  when  you  see  him.  He  will  explain  to  you 
certain  things  which  have  a  direct  bearing  on  your  offer." 

The  other  note  was  the  same,  save  for  the  transposi- 
tion of  names. 

Mr.  Stewart,  promptly  at  three  of  the  clock,  appeared 
at  the  hotel,  and  was  given  the  note  by  the  clerk.  He 
couldn't  quite  make  out  the  meaning  of  the  communica- 
tion and  retired  to  a  corner  to  re-read  it.  As  he  was  puz- 
zling it  out  Monigomery  hurried  in,  got  his  note  and 
looked  properly  mystified.  Then  he  caught  sight  of  Stew- 
art in  the  corner,  and  advancing,  opened  the  conversation 
in  the  most  direct  way. 

"  Mr.  Stewart,"  he  said,  "  I  have  called  to-day  to  get 
from  Miss  Kildare  an  answer  to  a  question  1  asked  her 
some  time  ago.  1  ind  a  note  from  her  saying  you  will 
give  me  that  answer." 

A  slow  grin  widened  the  cherubic  face  of  Mr.  Stewart 
as  he  listened. 

Then  he  said  briefly,  "  I  will,"  and  he  searched  through 
his  pockets  till  he  found  Miss  Kildare's  letter  rejecting 
Mr.  Montgomery. 


SOMETHING   HARD   TO   BEAT. 


Montgomery  read  with  a  clouded  brow.  The  commii. 
nication  bore  the  date  of  a  month  ago.  As  he  read  Stew- 
art's grin  grew  even  more  expansive.  "  Now,  you  see," 
said  that  gentleman,  the  thought  of  the  offer  of  the  part  o( 
a  bearded  old  sea-dog  strong  upon  him,  "  now  you  see  why 
Miss  Kildare  can't  marry  you." 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  got  hold  of  a  letter  addressed 
to  me,"  said  Montgomery,  "and  I  don't  understand  why 
the  date  " 

"  Don't  try  to,"  advised  Stewart.  "  But  see  here  ;  Miss 
Kildare  has  also  written  me  that  if  I  ask  you,  you  can  tell 
me  something  about  her  sentiments  toward  me." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Montgomery  slowly  ;  "for  a  minute  1 
had  forgotten.  Maybe  you  will  be  interested  in  reading 
this,"  and  he  handed  the  lawyer  Miss  Kildare's  rejection 
of  the  month  before. 

For  fully  five  minutes  the  men  sat  and  stared,  then, 
"  Stewart,"  said  Montgomery, '  •  there's  a  tt  ain  into  town  at 
four-fifteen.  I  think  I'll  take  it.  Do  you  want  to  come 
along  ?" 

"I'll  go  you,"  said  Mr.  Stewart,  and  they  left  the  hotel 
together. 

Modern  Therapeutics. 

I  WENT  to  a  modern  doctor  to  learn  what  it  was  was  wrong. 
'  I'd  lately  been  off  my  fodder,  and  life  was  no  more  a  song. 
He  felt  of  my  pulse  as  they  all  do,  he  gazed  at  my  outstretclied 

tongue  ; 
He  took  off  my  coat   and  weskit  and   harked  at  each  wheezing 

lung. 
He  fed  me  a  small  glass  penstalk  with  figures  upon  the  side. 
And  this  was  his  final  verdict  when  all  of  my  marks  he'd  spied  : 

"  Do  you  eat  fried  eggs  ?     Then  quit  it. 

You  don't?     Then  hurry  and  eat  'em, 
Along  with  some  hay  that  was  cut  in  May — 

There  are  no  other  foods  to  beat  'em. 
Do  you  walk  ?     Then  stop  instanter — 

For  exercise  will  not  do 
For  people  with  whom  it  doesn't  agree — 
And  this  is  the  rule  for  you  : 
Just  quit  whatever  you  do  do 

And  begin  whatever  you  don't ; 
For  what  you  don't  do  may  ngree  with  you 
.As  whatever  you  do  do  don't." 

Yea,  thus  saith  the  modern  doctor,  "Tradition  be  double  dumedl 
What  the  oldsters  knew  was  nothing  compared  to  the  things  we've 

learned. 
There's  nothing  in  this  or  that  thing  that's  certain  in  every  case 
Any  more  than  a  single  bonnet 's  becoming  to  every  face. 
It's  all  m  the  diagnosis  that  tells  us  the  patient's  fix — 
The  modern  who  knows  his  business  is  up  to  a  host  of  tricks. 

Do  you  eat  roast  pork  ?     Then  stop  it. 

You  don't  ?     Then  get  after  it  quickly. 
For  the  long-eared  ass  gives  the  laugh  to  grass 
And  delights  in  the  weed  that's  prickly.       * 
Do  you  sleep  with  the  windows  open  ? 

Then  batten  them  good  and  tight 
And  swallow  the  same  old  fetid  air 

Through  all  of  the  siioozesome  night. 
Just  quit  whatever  you  do  do 

And  do  whatever  you  don't ; 
For  what  you  don't  do  may  agree  with  you 
As  whatever  you  do  do  don't." 

STRICKLAND  W.  GILLiL«^. 


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King  of  Unadilla  Goes  Bowling 


By  Howard  R.  Qaris 


ODDS  FISH-HOOKS  !"  exclaimed  the  king  of 
Unadilla.  "Things  are  about  as  lively 
here  as  a  Quaker  meeting  after  election. 
Why  don't  some  of  you  past-performances 
in  the  shape  of  animated  hair-pins  get  up 
a  five-o'clock  tea  .''" — and  the  merry  mon- 
arch scowled  in  the  direction  of  the 
drawer  of  the  corl<s,  the  lord  of  the  treasury  and  the  secre- 
tary of  the  interior,  the  latter  being  court  cook. 

"  May  it  please  your  serene  salubriousness,"  began  the 
drawer  of  the  corks,  "  what  would  you  have  ?" 

"  Anything  !  Anything  to  keep  things  in  this  little 
two-by-four  kingdom  from  getting  paresis,"  replied  the 
king  of  Unadilla.  "  Why,  even  the  dogs  in  the  street 
don't  bark  at  the  moon,  and  there  hasn't  been  an  arrest  in 
a  month.     Can't  you  shake  'em  up  a  bit  ?" 

"Shake  'em  up?"  inquired  the  lord  of  the  treasur>-, 
who  belonged  to  the  old  rggime. 

"  Yep  !"  snapped  the  sovereign.  "  Wobble  'em  a  bit, 
set  'em  up  in  the  other  alley,  put  in  a  new  spark-plug,  fill 
up  the  reservoirs,  throw  in  the  high-speed  gear  and  let 
the  gasoline  gig  gallop  !     Things  are  too  slow  !" 

"Oh,  you  want  a  little  excitement,  perhaps,"  retorted 
the  drawer  of  the  corks. 

"You  ought  to  contribute  to  the  puzzle-page  of  a  Sun- 
day supplement,  you're  so  bright,"  spoke  the  king  in  his 
sarcastic  voice.  "  First  you  know  you'll  be  doping  out 
the  first  three  under  the  wire  !" 

The  three  counselors  looked  somewhat  alarmed,  for 
when  the  king  was  in  this  mood  he  was  liable  to  do  most 
anything  and  require  the  members  of  his  court  to  do  like- 
wise, which  sometimes  led  to  unpleasant  results. 

For  things  were  run  on  a  sort  of  independent  plan  in 
the  kingdom  of  Unadilla,  and  oft-times  the  monarch  be- 
came a  very  boy  in  searching  after  pleasure,  at  which 
times  he  frequently  made  his  courtiers  resemble  beings 
who  have  been  handed  fruit  from  the  citrus  limonum  tree. 

"  Well  ?"  snapped  the  ruler. 

There  was  an  anxious  pause,  and  the  three  counselors 
looked  at  one  another. 

"  Say  something — you're  the  oldest,"  whispered  the 
drawer  of  the  corks  to  the  lord  of  the  treasury. 

"  Would  —  would  you  like  to  have  another  poker- 
party  ?"  asked  the  aforesaid  lord. 

"Not  unless  I'm  drugged  !"  e.xclaimed  the  king.  He 
had  an  unpleasant  recollection  of  the  last  seance,  where, 
having,  after — by  some  manipulation — secured  a  straight 
flush,  he  fell  to  four  aces  when  the  pot  had  been  well 
sweetened.  And  thereby  the  lord  of  the  treasury  profited, 
as  he  held  the  double  duet  of  lonely  spots. 

"  How  about  a  masquerade  ?"  ve'ntured  the  drawer  of 
the  corks.     "  We  used  to  have  lots  of  fun  at  them." 

"  Tag !    You're  it !"  exclaimed  the  king  with  a  sar- 


castic attempt  at  playfulness.  "  Masquerades  !  Oh,  slush  ! 
Why  not  a  party — the  kind  where  you  bring  peanuts  or 
oranges,  scramble  in  the  parlor  and  sing  out  when  the 
girl  comes  in,  'Surprise  on  Kittie  !'  Oh,  but  you  are  the 
bright  eyes,  though  !" 

All  of  which  was  rather  hard  on  the  court  officials,  as 
they  were  doing  their  best.  The  trouble  was  the  king 
was  passS.  He  didn't  call  it  just  that.  In  fact,  he  wouldn't 
have  known  the  disease  under  that  name.  He  would 
probably  have  called  it  the  pip  or  an  attack  of  the  dink- 
botts.  But  he  wanted  amusement,  and,  being  a  monarch, 
he  was  going  to  have  it. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  after  a  long  and  somewhat  painful 
silence,  "  it's  a  case  of  cut  for  deal  with  you  gazaboos. 
I've  shuffled  the  cards,  and  it's  a  blind  trump." 

"  Meaning  what,  your  serene  side-stepper  ?"  asked  the 
lord  of  the  treasury. 

"  Meaning  that  it's  strictly  elevated  in  your  direction. 
Do  you  need  a  map  to  find  out  where  you're  at  ?" 

Once  more  silence  fell,  broken  only  by  the  ticking  of 
the  alarm-clock,  from  which  the  king  had  removed  the  beil, 
as  it  awakened  him  early  on  the  wrong  mornings,  and 
late  on  the  right  ones. 

"  I'll  give  you  the  regulation  three  days  to  think  up  a 
new  game,"  the  monarch  went  on.  "  It's  got  to  be  some- 
thing lively,  and  one  that  will  give  the  blues  the  go-by 
like  a  ninety-horse-power  choo-choo  chariot  leaving  a 
Brooklyn  perambulator  behind,  or  it's  all  of  you  to  the 
axe.     Go  !  the  king  has  spoken  !" 

Then  the  ruler  of  Unadilla,  reaching  in  his  hip-pocket 
for  another  gold -tipped  Egyptian,  imported  from  the 
Bowery,  cleverly  blew  smoke-rings  and  began  dealing 
himself  a  solitaire  hand  from  a  stacked  deck. 

In  silence  the  three  courtiers  withdrew.  They  had 
been  placed  in  the  same  unpleasant,  position  before,  but 
had  managed  to  wiggle  out,  with  more  or  less  of  their 
reputations  left.  Now  it  seemed  a  little  more  difficult, 
since  they  had  exhausted  all  the  amusement  enterprises 
they  could  think  of. 

Still  the  king  must  be  obeyed,  or  there  would  be  father- 
less families  in  Unadilla. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?"  asked  the  lord  of  the  treasury. 

"  Let's  have  a  drink  !"  exclaimed  the  drawer  of  the 
corks.     "  Maybe  we  can  think  better  then." 

Seated  about  a  round  table  in  the  Royal  Peacock  there 
might  have  been  seen,  a  little  later,  three  figures,  from 
the  midst  of  which  there  sounded  ever  and  anon, 

"  I'll  have  the  same." 

At  intervals,  in  the  brain  -  enlivening  process,  there 
sounded  a  subdued  roar  in  some  part  of  the  Royal  Peacock. 
At  first  the  three  courtiers  were  oblivious  to  it.  Finally 
i.he  lord  of  the  treasury'  lifted  his  head. 

"  What's  that  ?"  he  asked. 


•"Some  new  game  they've  put  in,"  replied  the  secretary 
of  the  interior.  "  You  throw  a  ball  down  at  a  lot  of  pins 
set  up  at  the  end  of  a  long  alley,  and  if  you  knock  'em  all 
down  you  get  a  good  mark." 

'•  Aiul  if  you  miss  .^"  inquired  the  drawer  of  the  corks. 

"  Then  some  one  yells  •  poodle  '  at  you." 

For  a  time  the  three  sat  bowed  in  silent  thought. 
Then,  all  at  once,  the  same  idea  came  to  them. 

•'  The  king  !  '  they  e.xclaimed  as  one  man.  "  Why  not 
try  this  on  him  !" 

"  The  very  thing  !"  said  the  lord  of  the  treasury.  "  That 
will  make  him  look  like  a  last  year's  rubber  boot  with  the 
lining  out.  He  makes  me  tired,  all  the  while  putting  it 
up  to  us  to  do  the  merry  ha,  ha  !  for  him.  Why  don't  the 
back  number  of  a  race-track  dope-book  get  out  a  new 
edition  himself  once  in  a  while  ?  " 

"  How  will  you  work  it  ?"  asked  the  drawer  of  the 
corks. 

"  Easy,"  replied  the  lord  of  the  treasury.  "  We'll  go 
up  against  this  game  ourselves  and  practice  a  bit." 

"Yes." 

"  Then  we'll  invite  him  down  here  to  a  match." 

"Well?" 

"Then  we'll   put  it  all  over  him  and  make  him  seem 
like  a  kindergarten  kid  playing  Rugby.     It 
will    be   as  easy  as  extracting  saccharine 
concoctions  from  a  non  compos  mentis." 

Then  the  three  conspirators  laughed 
in  silent  glee,  nudged  each  other  in  the 
short  ribs,  and  each  one  ordered  "  the 
same."  They  strolled  out  to  the  bowling- 
alley.  Being  something  of  an  innovation 
in  Unadilla  there  were  only  a  few  twirling 
the  spheroids.  The  courtiers  watched  them 
closely.  After  a  wliile  the  lord  of  the  treas- 
ury went  to  the  proprietor  and  held  a  short 
conversation  with  him.  The  sound  ol 
something  clinking  from  the  palm  of  one  to 
the  other  was  heard. 

"  Have  it  your  own  way,"  the  proprietor 
was  heard  to  remark.  "  I  don't  feel  any 
too  friendly  to  him  since  he  raised  the  ex- 
cise tax  and  enforced  the  Sunday-closing 
law.     But  don't  get  me  mixed  up  in  it." 

"  Never  fear,"  spoke  the  lord  of  the 
treasury. 

For  several  hours  that  niglit,  when  all 
the  rest  of  the  world  was  asleep,  the  sound 
of  balls  rumbling  clown  the  alleys  might 
have  been  heard,  mingling  with  the  crash 
of  falling  pins.  The  three  conspirators  were 
practicing. 

At  first  they  were  about  as  bad  as  tliey 
come.  Into  the  gutters  they  went,  or  else 
the  balls  would  go  down  the  centre  and 
then  gracefully  curve  off,  just  brushing  the 
corner  pin.  But  the  three  were  earnest 
and  after  a  while  they  did  fairly  well. 
^  They  kept  at  it,  on  and  off,  for  two 
days,  paying  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the 
alleys.     Then,  early  in  the  morning  of  the  Helen  Hippo- 


last  day  of  grace,  more  or  less  frayed  to  a  frazzle,  they 
went  home. 

"  We'll  tell  him  we  have  something  amusing  for  his 
royal  rustiness  when  he  holds  court  after  sunrise,"  the 
drawer  of  the  corks  announced.  "  We  will  not  say  ex- 
actly what  it  is,  but  invite  him  to  try  a  game  of  skill  and 
strength.  "  Hell  never  think  of  the  necessity  for  practice, 
he's  so  all-fired  stuck  on  his  muscles  and  form.  We're  not 
so  much  ourselves,  but  if  we  can't  give  him  one  hundred 
points  and  beat  him  I'm  a  last  year's  edition  of  the  book 
of  royal  favors. " 

"  Easy,  easy,"  muttered  the  secretary  of  the  interior, 
wondering  what  he  would  give  the  king  for  breakfast  to 
make  him  good  natured. 

Court  assembled   in  due  form,  with  the  king  upon  his 
gold  i:nd   ivory  throne,  carelessly  smoking  a  gold-tipped 
cigarette.     He  heard  petitions  from  such  of  his  subjects 
as  objected  to  barking  dogs,  crowing  roosters,  or  the  noise 
the  milkmaids  caused  as  they  went  singing  to  their  tasks 
in  the  dewy  morn,  chanting  bucolic  lays  ere  they  brought 
from  the  royal  stables  the  lacteal  fluid  from  imported  Jer- 
seys.    After  routine  business  was  over  the  king  said, 
"  Well,  little  ones,  what  have  ye  ?" 
The    tones    were    pleasant   enough,  but   the   courtiers 
knew  there  was  a  veiled  threat  be- 
hind them,    and   happy  were  they 
that  they  had  that  which  might  serve 
to  appease  their  monarch's  wrath. 

"Come,  come,  bright-eyes," 
quoth  the  monarch,  looking  at  the 
drawer  of  the  corks,  but  speaking 
at  the  other  two,  "  don't  be 
bashful  now.  Speak  your 
little  piece.  The  wielder  of 
the    axe    is  in   waiting. 


hI^ 


BY   MEASUREMENT. 
-"  Goodness,  mother  !  how  narrow-minded  ne  must  be !" 


AN   EX-IT. 

hasn't  had  his  breakfast  and  he's  al- 
ways real  sassy  on  an  empty  stom- 
ach." 

"If  you  please,  supremely  sumptu- 
ous sire,"  began  the  lord  of  the  treas- 
ury-, "  we  think  we  have  found  some- 
thing to  amuse  your  imperial  top- 
loftiness  and  cause  you  to  forget 
your  weariness.'' 

"  Good  !"  exclaimed  the  monarch. 
"  Spoken  like  a  real  lady.  What  is 
it?" 

Then,  in  faltering  accents,  as 
though  he  feared  to  incur  the  dis- 
pleasure of  his  royal  master,  the  lord 
of  the  treasury  unfolded  his  little 
scheme.  He  told  how  there  was  a 
sort  of  ball-rolling  play  that  had  re- 
cently been  invented,  which  might 
serve  to  while  away  a  few  hours. 

"  Good  !"  exclaimed  the  kijig. 
"  Methinks  I  will  like  that.  Tell  me, 
can  we  play  for  wagers  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  lord  ol  the 
treasury,  trying  to  conceal  his  glee. 

"  Then  arrange  a  game  for  three 
nights  hence,"  remarked  the  king. 

"  Yes,  sire." 


"  Stay  1"  exclaimed  the  king  as  the  courtiers  were  about  to  leave.  "  Cause  a 
notice  to  be  posted  on  the  royal  bulletin-board,  stating  that  the  king  will  meet 
all  comers.  I  don't  know  much  about  the  game,  but,  from  what  you  tell  me, 
it  seems  to  need  strength  and  skill,  both  of  which  I  am  modest  enough  to  think 
I  possess.  It  is  well  that  my  liege  subjects  should  see  that  their  king  can  do 
these  things.  If  a  war  comes  they  will  rest  easy,  knowing  that  I  am  at  the 
head  of  the  troops.     It  is  well,  I  have  spoken.     Go  !" 

And  they  went,  hardly  able  to  conceal  their  gleeishness. 

"  What  ?"  asked  the  drawer  of  the  corks.     "  Maybe  he  didn't  rise  to  it  !" 

"  Like  a  hungry  trout  in  May-fly  time,"  responded  the  secretary  of  the  interior. 


CONFIDENTI.A.L. 
The  golf  girl — '-John  seems  to  have  foozled  in  making  love  to  me." 
The  auto  girl — ••  Well,  something  's  gone  wrong  with  my  sparker,  too." 


BELATED   KNOWLEDGE. 
•  How  long  did  you  know  your  wife  before  you  married  her  ?" 
'  Oh,  1  didn't  know  her  at  all.     I  only  thought  I  did." 


"  Wait  until  he  gets  on  the  alleys  and  makes  a  few 
poodles,"  spoke  the  lord  of  the  treasury.  "  He'll  wish  he 
hadn't  been  so  hungry  to  eat  'em  alive." 

In  due  time  the  notice  of  the  royal  bowling  game  was 
posted.  There  was  no  need  to  invite  a  crowd  to  come. 
The  people  always  flocked  to  the  scene  whenever  the 
king  gave  a  performance.  The  news  spread  all  over  the 
kingdom  and  the  papers  were  full  of  it.  There  were  pic- 
tures of  the  king  showing  fifty-seven  different  poses, 
sketches  of  the  alleys  and  of  the  balls.  Also  there  were 
likenesses  of  the  three  courtiers. 

Just  as  they  had  suspected,  the  king  did  not  go  near 
the  alleys.  He  thought  he  needed  no  practice.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  conspirators  spent  all  their  spare  time  in 
play,  und  were  getting  in  rare  form. 

The  day  on  the  evening  of  which  the  game  was  to  be 
played  the  bowling-alleys 
were  closed.  The  propri- 
etor explained  he  was  get- 
ting them  in  readiness  for 
the  contest — that  they  had 
to  be  rubbed  down  and 
polished,  new  balls  fur- 
nished, the  pins  leveled 
off,  and  many  little  details 
looked  after. 

There  was  a  deal  ot 
hammering  and  pound- 
ing in  the  place,  and  if 
one  could  have  peered  in- 
side he  would  have  thought 
the  alleys  were  being  tak- 
en apart,  rather  than  be- 
ing prepared  fora  match. 
Down  the  centre  of  each 
one  a  strip  of  the  narrow 
boards  was  being  taken 
up.     Several    workmen 


were  busy,  and  a  short, 
stout  chap,  in  greasy  over- 
alls and  a  jumper,  seemed 
to  be  giving  orders. 

Now  and  then  he  went 
down  cellar  and  busied 
himself  over  some  wires, 
coils,  and  what  not,  con- 
necting them  to  the  elec- 
tric-light circuit. 

Clearly    matters    were 
going  to   be   put  into  ex- 
cellent shape  for  the  bowl- 
ing   game   in    which    the 
king   of  Unadilla  was    to 
take    part.      The   lord    of 
the  treasury,    the   drawer 
of  the  corks,  and  the  sec- 
retary of  the  interior  went 
about  with  smiles  on  their 
faces.    Now  and  then  they 
would   drop  into  the    bar 
of  the  Royal   Peacock  and 
order  more  of  the  same. 
So  great  was  the  throng  that  besieged  the  doors  of  the 
bowling  alley  that  the  entire  poHce  force  of  Unadilla  was 
called  out  to  keep  order.     As  many  as  could  found  seats  in 
the  tier  arranged  for  spectators.     Others  stood  up.    About 
eight  o'clock  the  monarch  drove  up  in  his  golden  chariot. 
"Greeting,  most  noble  sire  !"  cried  the  populace. 
"  Howdy  ! '  replied  the  king  airily. 
Whereat  the  assemblage  cheered  itself  hoarse. 
By  dint  of  much  squeezing  a  passage-way  was  made 
for  the  king.     The  lord  of  the  treasury,  the  drawer  of  the 
corks  and   the  secretary  of  the  interior  were  already  on 
hand.     They   were  throwing   a  few  practice  balls  down 
the  alleys. 

"  Ah,  there  you  are  !"  exclaimed  the  king  playfully. 
"  We'll  chase  a  few  down  toward  the  squatty  timber  our- 
selves." 


ENVV. 

M,\GGIE  Mermaid — "  Ain't  he  han'some?    Jes'  to  think,  Mayme,  we  might  have  bin 
in  her  place  if  we  was  horned  on  land  !" 


He  tried  to  throw  a  sphere  to  find  the  pocket  between 
the  head  pin  and  number  two,  but  it  went  into  the  gutter. 

"  Poodle  !"  muttered  the  lord  of  the  treasury. 

"  I  don't  see  any  dog  !"  exclaimed  the  king,  looking 
behind  him. 

"  He  means  you  n.ade  a  miss,"  explained  the  keeper  of 
the  alleys  in  gentle  tones. 

"  Oh,"  spoke  the  monarch  ;  "  well,  it  won't  happen 
again." 

But  it  did,  and  there  were  broad  smiles  on  the  faces 
of  the  three  conspirators,  who  tried  hard  to  conceal  their 
glee. 

"  Easy,  eh  ?"  snickered  the  lord  of  the  treasury,  dig- 
ging the  drawer  of  the  corks  under  his  floating  ribs. 

Indeed,  it  did  look  dark  for  the  king  of  Unadilla.  His 
ignorance  of  the  game,  his  lack  of  practice,  and  his  con- 
tempt for  his  courtiers  were  like  to  prove  his  undoing. 
Nevertheless,  the  monarch  showed  no  fear. 

"Well,"  he  remarked  in  tones  that  tried  to  be  light 
and  airy,  "  it  may  not   be  so   easy  as  it  looks,  but  you'll 


SAFE. 


The  Reverend  Silently  Buttin — "My  little  man,  why  are  you  not  in  school? 
Little  man — "  My  ma  said  for  me  to  run  out  and  play,  so  I  ain't  goin'." 
The  Rev.  S.  B.  — "  But  suppose  the  teacher  licks  you?" 
Little  man — '•  She  won't ;  'cause  ma  can  lick  the  teacher." 
The  Rev.  S.  B.  — "  How  do  you  know?" 
Little  man — "  'Cause  ma  can  lick  pa." 


not  find  me  playing  the  part  of  the  individual  who  lives  on 
bottled  nourishment.  I'm  game.  To  prove  it  I'll  put  up 
five  hundred  scaldeens  against  one  hundred  that  I  do 
either  of  you  three  fuzzy-hided  specimens  of  the  tadpole 
age  !" 

"  You're  on  !"  cried  the  lord  of  the  treasury. 
"Same   here  !"  from  the  drawer  of  the  corks  and  the' 
secretary  of  the  interior. 

"  Money  talks,"  remarked  the  king,  handing  his  over 
to  the  proprietor  of  the  alleys,  who  locked  the  one  thou- 
sand five  hundred  scaldeens  up  in  his  safe.  The  others 
quickly  covered  it. 

"  It's  a  shame  to  do  it,"  spoke  the  drawer  of  the  corks. 
The  preliminaries  of  the  games  were  soon  arranged. 
The  four  contestants  were  to  roll  across  on  two  alleys, 
each  man  for  himself.  The  king  was  up  against  the  three 
individunlly.  The  excitement  was  at  its  height.  The 
new  electric  lights  glowed  with  great  brilliance. 

"  No  objection  to  my  using  this  ball  I  purchased  for  the 
occasion,  is  there  ?"  asked  the  king,  producing  a  sphere. 
"  Not  in  the  least,"  assured  the  secre- 
tary of  the  interior,  wondering  what  he 
could  give  the  king  for  breakfast  to  make 
him  forget  the  defeat  that  stared  him  in 
the  face. 

The  game  was  on.  The  lord  of  the 
treasury  rolled  first  on  number-one  alley, 
with  the  drawer  of  the  corks  on  number 
two.  The  lord  got  nine  and  the  keeper 
seven.  Then  came  the  secretary  of  the 
interior,  who  made  an  easy  spare. 

It  was  now  the  king's  turn.  Boldly  he 
stepped  to  the  fore.  There  was  a  shining 
look  in  his  eye. 

"  'Tis  a  shame  to  see  him  lose — to  wit- 
ness our  beloved  monarch  being  made 
sport  of,"  whispered  an  old  retainer. 

"  Hush  !  He  has  brought  it  on  him- 
self," replied  a  soldier  from  the  palace. 

The  king  negligently  knocked  the  ash 
from  his  gold-tipped  cigarette.  Then, 
stoop  ng  low,  holding  the  ball  firmly,  he 
swung  it  once,  twice,  thrice,  and  sent  it 
sliding  down  the  alley. 

It  was  a  side  ball.  Starting  in  a  little 
to  the  left  of  the  right  edge,  it  gradually 
curved  over,  crossing  the  head  pin  and 
landing  right  in  the  "  pocket,"  between 
number  one  and  number  two.  There 
was  a  musical  crash  as  the  ten  hard  pins 
were  bowled  over. 

"  A  strike  !  a  strike  !"  cried  the  mob, 
enlivened  into  sudden  enthusiasm.  "  The 
king  has  made  a  strike  !" 

"  Odds  fish-hooks  !  So  I  have  !"  re- 
marked the  monarch.  "  Must  have  been 
an  accident;"  and  he  looked  fixedly  at 
the  three  conspirators. 

"  He  certainly  did  fluke  into  it,"  mut- 
tered the  secretary  of  the  interior.  "I 
wonder  if  he  is  handing  us  another  citron. 


Then  the  game  became  furious.  The  lord  of  the  treas- 
ury and  the  drawer  of  the  corks  began  to  improve.  The\ 
made  several  strikes  and  a  number  of  spares.  The  secre- 
tary of  the  interior  did  likewise.  But  the  very  spirit  of 
bowling  seemed  to  have  entered  the  king. 

His  first  strike  was  followed  by  a  second,  then  a  third 
fourth  and  fifth.  The  crowd  began  to  sit  up  and  take 
notice.  The  three  conspirators  saw  visions  of  their  money 
in  the  pocket  of  their  monarch. 

"But  I  tell  you  it  can't  last,"  insisted  the  drawer  oi 
the  corks  to  the  lord  of  the  treasury.  "  He  don't  know 
anything  about  bowling.  It's  all  luck.  He'll  poodle  in 
the  next  frame." 

Instead,  the  king  made  a  strike.  It  was  the  secretary 
of  the  treasury  who  poodled.  The  king  could  not  seem 
to  miss.  On  either  alley  he  was  equally  at  home.  With 
a  grace  that  came  natural  he  sent  the  balls  down,  a  little 
to  the  side.  Over  they  slid,  into  the  pocket,  and  a  strike 
resulted. 

It  was  the  last  frame.  The  king  had  not  made  a 
break.  He  had  already  won  the  game,  and  it  was  only  a 
question  of  who  was  going  to  be  low  man.  The  king 
finished  with  three  strikes,  making  the  highest  possible 
score — three  hundred.  The  lord  ot  the  treasury  got  one 
hundred  and  seventy-six,  the  drawer  of  the  corks  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty-five,  and  the  secretary  of  the  interior  one 
hundred  and  fifty-two. 

"  The  king  wins  !  Long  live  the  king  !'  cried  the  pop- 
ulace, and,  had  he  not  been  a  monarch,  they  would  have 
ridden  him  on  their  shoulders. 

"  How  about  it  ?"  asked  the  monarch  of  the  three  con- 
spirators as  he  pocketed  their  three  hundred  scaldeens,  as 
well  as  his  own.  "  How  does  little  Willie  off  the  motor- 
boat  feel  now  ?" 

"  We  have  nothing  to  say,  sire,"  replied  the  lord  of  the 
treasury,  through  his  clinched  teeth.  "You  put  it  all 
over  us." 

"Gave  you  the  grand  kibosh, 
in  other  words,  eh  ?"  spoke  the 
monarch,  and  the  three  courtiers 
bowed  in  assent.  Then  they  went 
into  outer  darkness. 

Later  that  night  a  short,  stout 
chap,  in  greasy  overalls  and  a 
jumper,  called  at  the  private  door 
of  the  king's  apartment. 

"  Did  it  work  all  right  ?"  asked 
he  of  the  king. 

"Like  a  charm.  I  couldn't 
miss." 

"  No  ;  I  guess  not,"  replied 
the  short,  stout  chap.  "  You  see, 
I  had  a  long,  steel  magnet  right 
down  the  allevs,  under  the  thin 
layer  of  wood.  The  magnet  led 
right  into  the  pocket.  Your  bowl- 
ing-ball was  a  hollow  steel  one. 
When  you  gave  me  the  signal  I 
just  closed  the  electric  circuit, 
and  your  ball  couldn't  do  any 
thing  else    but   follow    the    mag- 


netic strip  down  to  where  the  strikes  were.  I  guess  you 
couldn't  lose." 

"  And  the  balls  of  the  others  went  whither  they  listea,  ' 
mused  the  king. 

"  Of  course.  I  only  closed  the  circuit  when  I  got  your 
signal,  as  you  stepped  on  the  little  button  at  the  side  of 
the  alley,"  remarked  the  short,  stout  chap. 

Then  something  that  clinked  with  a  musical  sound 
passed  from  the  king's  hand  to  the  greasy  but  honest 
palm  of  the  short,  stout  chap. 

"  It  was  a  great  idea,"  mused  the  king.  "  Without  it 
they  would  liave  beaten  me,  and  my  name  would  have 
been  a  by-word  in  the  land  of  Unadilla.  But,  once  more 
has  the  king  triumphed  !  " 

And  then  the  ruler  of  Unadilla  went  back  to  his  goblet 
of  mixed  ale,  his  Roquefort  cheese  and  crackers. 

Queer  Facts  for  Thought. 

A  YOUNG  man  fond  of  dancing  took  a  pedometer  with 
him  to  a  ball  and  found  that  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  he  had  covered  thirteen  and  a  half  miles.  An- 
other young  man,  who  reads  this  paper,  placed  a  pedome- 
ter on  his  stomach,  and  found  that  he  laughed  over  six 
hundred  miles  from  the  first  to  the  last  page. 

By  pasting  a  bit  of  paper.on  the  eyelid  a  photographic 
record  has  been  made  of  the  duration  of  time  required  in 
winking  the  eye.  It  has  been  found  that  a  wink  requires 
one-third  of  a  second,  which  proves  scientifically  that, 
after  all,  it  isn't  a  very  great  waste  of  time  to  wink  at  a 
pretty  girl. 

In  San  Domingo  there  is  a  remarkable  salt  mountain, 
a  mass  of  crystalline  salt  almost  four  miles  long,  said  to 
contain  nearly  ninety  million  tons,  and  to  be  so  clear  that 
medium-sized  print  can  be  read  with  ease  through  a  block 
a  foot  thick.  All  the  houses  built  on  this  hill  have  salt 
cellars  under  them. 


HIS  MISFORTUNE. 
Near-sighted  pedestrian — "  Confound  you !  that's  what  you  told  me  before, 
you  I  walked  three  miles  in  that  direction  and  couldn't  find  a  sign  of  the  place." 


I  tell 


The  Thankfulness 

of  Hiram. 

i^LD  Hiram  Hopkinson 
was  t  h  e  meanest 
man  on  Pusley  Creek. 
He  wouldn't  even  give 
thanks.  He  said  he  ought 
to  be  paid  for  them. 

"  What's  the  good  of 
giving  something  for 
nothing  ?"  he  growled. 
"  Nobody  gives  me  any- 
thing. What  I  get  I  have 
to  pay  cash  for.  Huh  ? 
No,  I  won't.  If  any- 
body gets  anything  out 
of  Hiram  Hopkinson  he 
pays  cash  for  it.  That's 
me,  and  that's  business." 
This  speech  had  come 
\vmI  to  the  ears  of  Mrs.  Hop- 

-      V^  .  kinson,  a  kindly  soul,  and 

Hiram's  only  claim  to  a 

I_  ,     ^,  happy  hereafter,  and  she 

F  you  were  cake  I  m  sure  you  d  be         ,  ,  ,  .        ,      , 
~,  ^         1,1  told  him  she  hoped  that 

what  she  had  heard  was 
not  true. 

"  But  it  is,"  he  per- 
sisted. "  I  said  just  that, 
and  1  meant  it.  I  mean 
It  now." 

"  Oh,     Hiram  !"     she 
cried,  "  it's  wicked — it's 
wicked!    You  have  plenty  to  be  thankful  for,  and  the  good 
Lord  will  make  you  thankful.     You  see  if  he  doesn't." 

Hiram  snorted  defiance  and  went  out  to  hitch  up  the 
team.  It  was  early  in  November,  and  he  had  a  wagon- 
load  of  turkeys  to  take  to  town.  Hiram's  turkeys  were 
fine  and  fat  always,  and  he  got  the  top  of  the  market  for 
them. 

Some  time  next  day  Hiram  complained  to  his  wife  ot 
a  sore  bump  on  his  neck.  She  took  a  look  and  reported 
that  it  looked  to  her  like  a  "  bealin'."  By  the  second 
day  it  was  a  fully  -  developed  boil,  and  it  was  very 
busy.  Hiram  went  around  with  his  head  twisted 
to  one  side.  At  night  there  was  a  flax-seed  poultice 
on  it  as  big  as  a  plate.  Mrs.  Hopkinson  had  put  it 
there. 

On  the  morning  of  Thanksgiving  day  Hiram's  boil 
was  bigger  than  a  turkey-egg,  and  he  was  laid  up 
in   bed. 

"  Poor  Hiram  !"  soothed  his  kindly  wife  as  she  smoothed 
down  his  pillow,  "  you  haven't  got  anything  to  be  thank- 
ful for  to-day,  have  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  have,  Susan,"  he  replied  ;  "  yes,  I  have.  I'm 
darned  thankful  that  I've  got  only  one  boil.  I  might  have 
had  a  dozen,  you  know." 

"  And  I'm  thankful,  too,  Hiram,"  she  said,  sweet  and 
low,  and  took  his  hand  in  hers.  Thus  there  w^s  Thanks- 
giving in  the  house  of  Hopkinson. 


A  Toast. 

jF  you  were  cake  I'm  sure  you'd  be 

The  purest  angel-cakc  to  me. 
Of  it  to  eat,  yet  have  it,  too, 
To  be  discreet,  what  could  I  do? 
Oh,  now  I  know  what  I  would  do. 
I'd  eat  the  frosting  off  of  you  ; 
Then  save  the  rest,  though  still  en- 
ticing. 
And  try  my  best  to  grow  more  icing. 


The  "Literary  Page." 

Why  have  we  no  American  literature  t — Old  song, 
((  LJERE'S  a  yarn  about  an  author  who  was  caught  in  mannei 
'  '         neat 

In  articulo  scribendi  with  a  duck  between  his  feet ; 
And  another  on  the  salads  certain  writers  will  not  eat." 
Sunday  editor  loquitur — '-Just  run  it  on  the  literary  page." 

"  Here's  a  note  on  how  to  hemstitch  and  one  on  '  Baling  Hay'; 
An  essay  on  tlie  Beef  Trust,  a  modern  '  problem  play.' 
Here's  an  '  Edith '  poem,  written  by  an  Edith  ;  subject  'May.' ' 
Sunday  editor  loquitur — "Just  run  'em  on  the  literary  page." 

"  'Tuberculosis  Cure,"  'The  Senate's  Crime,'  and  'Soups  : 

Three   Hundred  Ways  To  Cook   Them,'  'Is  Dame  Fashion 
Wearing  Hoops  ?' 

A  novel  by  Fitzsimmons  ;  some  big  reporter's  scoops  " 

Sunday  editor  loquitur — • '  Just  run  that  on  the  literary  page." 

'•  Here's  some  stuff  about  the  unions,  and    Autos  Old  and  New  '; 
'The  Care  of  Hens,"  'Success'  tales,  and  advice  on  what  to 

do  ' 

Sunday  editor  loquitur — "  I'd  put  them  in  the  waste-basket,  I 

think,  if  I  were  you, 
Or  else  nm  'em  on  the  literary  page."  h.  m.  lvon. 

Extravagant. 

((  CIR,"  said  the  beggar  to  the  man  whose  nose  and  chin 
were  almost  meeting,  and  who  walked  on  his  heels 
so  that  the  soles  of  his  shoes  might  be  saved,  "  would  you 
kindly  give  a  poor  devil  twenty  dollars  to  buy  something 
to  eat  ?" 

"  Twenty  dollars  !"  growled  the  man,  gasping.  "  Why, 
I  never  heard  of  s«ch  insolence  !  No  !  Be  on  your  way  ! 
I  would  not  give  you  a  cent.  Twenty  dollars  !  The  idea  ! 
Preposterous  !     Not  a  cent,  do  you  hear  .'" 

"That's  all  right,  boss,"  answered  the  beggar,  edging 
away.  "  I  knew  by  your  looks  you  wouldn't  loosen  up 
even  for  a  pleasant  smile  ;  and  feelm'  sort  of  sporty  to-day, 
1  thought  I  might  as  well  blow  in  a  twenty  on  you  as  a 
dime." 

Amenities. 

Fireman — "  I'm  policed  to  meet  you." 
Policeman — "  Oh,  you  go  to  blazes  !" 

A  Troubled  Life. 

CO  MANY  cruel  schemes  unfurled 
•^     In  man's  long  journey  through  the  world — 
We  suffer  from  a  thousand  ills — 
Wars,  earthquakes,  scandal,  corns  and  chills  ; 
And  what  oft  bothers  me,  in  sooth, 
Is  a  sore  little  tooth. 

So  many  evil  things  designed 
To  rob  us  of  our  peace  of  mind, 
So  many  things  the  spirit  roil 
The  while  we're  at  our  daily  toil ; 
But  what  concerns  me  most  to-day 
Are  debts  I  cannot  pay. 

The  world  is  full  of  traps  and  snares, 
And  very  ill  a  mortal  fares. 
Oh,  you'd  be  just  as  sad  as  I, 
You'd  feel  as  much  inclined  to  sigh, 
If,  though  your  hopes  of  winning  grew, 
Your  best  girl  \i\\si  you  ! 

NATHAN  M.  LEVY. 


BiJ  o'g 

«>    0!    = 

<  >    <  M 

^   -      ?   - 

bl     I     U     I 

S  z  S  z 

<  <  <  < 

o  s  o  s 

iJ     £-■     ^J     E-. 

<:  a;  <  a! 


Quarter-stretch  Jones  on  the  Quartette 


By  W.  D.  Nesbit 


THERE  was  four  entries  for  the  purse,  as  far  as  I 
could  make  it  out,  though  once  in  a  while 
the  starter  would  get  on  the  track  for  a  forty- 
yard  sprint  himself.  Two  of  them  was  nice- 
lookin'  fillies,  one  a  bay  an'  one  a  bright  sorrel. 
I  would  have  put  my  money  on  the  bright  sorrel  if  they 
had  been  makin'  books.  She  came  to  the  wire  with  more 
ginger  an'  life  than  the  bay.  The  bay  was  too  heavy- 
lookin'  for  the  distance,  too.  The  other  two  entries  was 
just  common  plugs — not  thoroughbreds  by  a  long  shot.  I 
wouldn't  have  played  either  of  them  for  place  it  you'd  let 
me  write  my  own  ticket. 

Well,  the  starter  got  out  in  front  o'  them 
and  waved  the  flag — only  he  used  a  stick. 
The  band  begun  to  play,  an'  he  let  'em  off. 
Crooked  work  right  there.  The  biggest  one 
of  the  plugs  got  away  four  lengths  ahead  of 
the  others  an'  was  goin'  like  a  jack-rabbit  be- 
fore the  rest  of  the  bunch  left  the  post  at  all. 

The  starter  never  seemed  to  noiice  him — 
just  waved  his  stick  at  the  bright  sorrel,  but 
she  didii't  go  then  ;  she  waited  till  the  bay 
got  away,  which  I  say  was  mighty  game  of 
her.  Then  the  bright  sorrel  started,  an'  the 
way  she  overtook  that  bay  was  a  caution. 
She  made  her  look  as  if  she  was  standin'  still. 
An'  all  this  time  that  first  plug  was  poundin' 
along  toward  the  first  quarter.  Then  the 
other  plug — a  little,  undersized,  beefy-lookin' 
one— jumped  out  as  if  he  was  doped,  an' 
went  skallyhootin'  after  the  crowd.  It  strung 
'em  out,  an'  made  it  interestin',  of  course,  but 
I  felt  like  protestin'  over  the  way  that  first 
plug  had  been  given  the  lead.  Mebbe,  though, 
it  was  a  handicap.  The  four  hopped  along, 
holdin'  the  same  positions  to  the  half,  when 
the  starter  run  across  the  field  an'  diia  forty- 
yard  dash  just  to  show  how  good  his  wind  was. 
Of  course  that  didn't  let  him  in  on  the  purse, 
an'  I  don't  know  why  he  wanted  to  cut  in — 
but  singiii'  is  different  from  bosses,  I  reckon. 

Well,  I  began  to  feel  as  if  I  had  guessed 
wrong  when  the  bright  sorrel  seemed  to  give 
up  after  the  half.  The  first  plug  was  all  in,  I 
could  see  that.  He  kept  droppin'  back  an' 
droppin'  back,  now  an'  then  gettin'  up  a  little 
steam  an'  tryin'  to  hold  his  own,  but  finally  he 
went  plumb  up  in  the  air,  an'  then  the  heavy 
bay  an"  the  undersized  plug  had  it  to  them- 
selves. I  will  say  that  they  surprised  me.  I 
didn't  think  it  was  in  'em.  They  got  down  to 
work  an'  they  hit  the  stretch  at  a  two-minute 
flat  gait.  I  thought  it  was  all  over,  when 
there  was  a  cloud  of  dust  down  at  the  third 
quarter,  an'  here  come  my  bright  sorrel  an" 
the   other    plug!     They    was    eatin'    up    the 


ground  !  The  bay  an'  the  undersized  plug  was  doin' 
their  best,  an'  the  starter  was  runnin'  along  with  them, 
but  it  wasn't  any  use.  Bay  an'  undersized  plug  came 
along  until  they  were  a  nose  behind,  an'  every  one  of  'em 
splittin'  the  wind 

An'  then  the  starter  waved  his  arms,  an'  they  all  jogged 
down  to  a  walk  an'  came  up  to  the  wire  an'  stopped — a 
dead  heat  ! 

But  the  starter  wasn't  satisfied,  no  more  than  me  ! 

He  shook  his  stick  at  them,  an'  he  led  the  bay  an'  the 
bright  sorrel  out  fer  an  exhibition  half.     He  started  'em 


WILLIE'S  HuliBV. 
When  Willie  began  to  sport  a  hobby-horse 
He  joined  an  outing  club,  of  course  ; 
But  finds  he  's  kept  too  busy  to  have  any  fun, 
For  seventy  times  around  the  park  is  an  ordinary  run. 


together,  fair  enough  this  time,  an"  he  kept  shakin"  the 
stick  at  the  bay  till  he  got  her  scared  so  bad  I  was  afraid 
she  would  go  through  the  fence  on  the  turn.  The  bright 
sorrel  didn't  need  no  stick  shook  at  her.  She  had  the  bit 
in  her  teeth.  She  was  showin'  what  speed  was.  Every 
time  the  bay  spurted,  bright  sorrel  spurted.  She  was 
game,  I  tell  you.  She  let  the  bay  make  the  pace,  if  she 
wanted  to,  but  bright  sorrel  wanted  it  understood  she 
could  make  a  split-second  watch  look  like  a  grandfather's 
clock  if  she  took  a  notion  !  They  turned  the  first  quarter 
so  fast  I  thought  they  would  fall  down  on  the  curve,  but 
they  whizzed  around  in  great  style. 
Then,  what  do  you  think  ? 

All  this  time  them  two  plugs  had  been  standin"  at  the 
wire   stampin'  their   feet  an'   shakin'  their    heads.     The 
starter  turned  to  them  and  lifted  his  stick. 
"  Go  !"  he  yelled. 

They  was  off  like  a  flash  of  lightnin'.  Away  ahead  ot 
them  was  the  bay  an'  the  bright  sorrel,  runnin'  as  if  they 
didn't  know  anything  about  the  plugs  !  Around  the  first 
turn  went  the  plugs  !  Blippety  -  blippety  -  blippety  !  an' 
every  once  in  a  while  one  of  'em  would  strike  an  "  Ah-h- 
h-h-h  !"  that  sounded  as  if  he  was  losin'  heart,  but  the 
starter  was  with  'em  an"  he  kept  *em  jumpin'.  I  could 
see  that  the  crowd  was  gettin'  ner\-ous  an'  excited.  So 
was  I.  A  fellow  near  me  stood  up.  Somebody  jerked 
him  back  in  his  seat.  Bay  an'  bright  sorrel  looked  over 
their  shoulders  an'  saw  the  plugs  comin',  an'  they  lit  out 
an' gained  ten  lengths  in  one  yelp.  But  it  wasn't  any  use. 
They  didn't  have  anything  in  reserve  for  the  stretch,  an' 


here  come  the  two  plugs  under  the  whip  an"  spur.  Bright 
sorrel  made  one  more  spurt,  but  the  bay  stayed  with  her, 
an'  the  two  plugs  got  their  second  wind — an'  I'll  be  dad- 
gummed  if  they  didn't  all  come  down  under  the  wire  in 
another  dead  heat  ! 

The  crowd  got  up  an'  stamped  an'  cheered,  but  I  left, 
to  show  my  disgust  over  such  rank  work  in  the  way  of 
startin'  them  off. 

Those  Tardy  Publishers. 

THE  great-foreign-novelist  and  his  wife  had  been  three 

or    four    days    in   this   country.     Already  they  were 

wearing  smoked  glasses  to   rest  their  eyes  while  reading 

the  scarlet  headlines  over  their  goings-out  and  comings-in. 

"  This  is  outrageous  !"  exclaimed  the  wife  of  the  great- 
foreign-novelist  as  she  crushed  the  newspaper  in  her  hand 
and  hurled  it  across  the  room. 

"  To  what  does  m'dam  refer  ?"  asked  her  husband. 

"Why,  it  is  of  the  m'sieur  le  publisher.  Was  he  not 
to  have  had  it  in  the  papers  of  America  within  three  days 
the  rumor  that  I  am  not  my  husband's  wife  ?  It  would  o( 
our  next  book  sell  many  thousands.  But  see  ;  here  comes 
the  ne.xt  of  editions.     I  have  not  doubt  it  is  printed  in  this." 

And  she  hurried  away  to  intercept  the  newsboy  and 
learn  if  their  tardy  publisher  had  redeemed  himself. 

The  Grammatical  Prisoner. 

((  A  ND  when  he  said  skiddoo  w-hat  did  you  do  .''"  asked 
the  judge. 
"  I  skiddid,  your  honor,"  said  the  prisoner. 


A   RAPID   01'LR.\.ToR. 
Emma  {7vio  is  a  stenographer) — "  Is  Mame  very  quick  as  a  stenographer?" 

Lizzie  (also  a  stetiographer) — "  Quick  !    She's  a  bird.    Why,  she  got  her  last  boss  to  propose  in  less'n 
two  weeks." 


MORAI^DON'T   DEGRADE   YOUR   GUN-POCKET. 
Sam — "Who's  thetthey're  totin'  t'  th'  mnrgue?" 
ToBE — "A  keerless  tenderfoot  who  wuz  playin'  poker." 
Sam — "  Fergit  t'  treat  in  turn?" 

ToBE — "  Nope  ;   kerried  his  cigareets  in  nis  hip-pocket     Th'  boys  tliought  he  wanted  t'  'draw, 
so  tl»ey  all  'filled,'  an'  he  'passed  in  his  chips.'  " 

The  Last  Trump. 


Not  Crowded. 

SUPPOSE  -there 
is  plenty  of  room 
at  the  top  in  your 

business." 

"  HarJly.     I    am    a 

steeple-jack." 

In  Striking  Times. 

«I-IELL0,     Snaggs! 

"    Working?" 

"  Naw  !" 

"  How  long  have  you 
been  idle  ?" 

"  Ever  since  I  joined 
the  union." 

The  Size  of  It. 

Her  husba7td — "  So 
you  've  joined  one  of 
tliose  French  conversa- 
tion classes,  eh  ?  What 
do  you  talk  about,  any 
way  ?" 

She  (absent-minded- 
ly)— "  Oh,  about  every 
one  who  happens  to  be 
absent." 


m 


jHEN   Angel   Gabriel 
blows  his  horn 
Our   fears   may  well 
be  founded 
That  all  the  Irish  won't  ap- 
pear 
Until  the  whistle 's  sounded. 

An  Elusive  Town. 

Pedestrian  (just  landed 
from  a  train  at  an  Irish 
station) — "  Pat,  is  it  far  to 
Ballyhooligan  ?" 

Porter  (confidentially) — 
"  'Tis  not  far  it  is  if  ye 
roide  in  a  cyar  ;  but  if  ye 
walk,  shure,  th'  nearer  ye 
get  to  it  th'  furder  away 
ye'll  foind  it,  sor." 

Class  in  Anatomy. 

Teacher — "Wilfred,  to 
what  are  the  teeth  fast- 
ened ?" 

Wilfred— "-Xo  the 
gums." 

Teacher  —  "  And  how 
many  gums  have  we  ?" 

Wilfred —  "Three  — 
pepsin,    wintergreen    and 
blood-orange." 
10 


Michael  Angelo  Clay — 
marble." 

Layman  Loafaround — "Ha  ! 
guess  your  deal  is  off." 


HAS   BEEN   DONE  ALRE 
I  expect  old  Stockson-Buiids 


ADY. 
'round 


tliis   afternoon, 
I  saw  in  to-day's  paper  that  he  has  been  done 


to  be  done  in 
in  copper,  so  T 


z 
< 

D 

< 


in 

'Xi 


a 

I 

a 


o 


en 

cu 

a 
a 

a 

J 


Mann  and  Super-Mann. 


lUEER  requests  come  to 
those  who  act,  but  here 
is  one  of  the  funniest  that  ever 
came  to  me  : 

"  Mr.  Louis  Mann — I  am 
told  that  you  are  the  super- 
man, and  I  want  to  begin  my 
stage  career,  as  a  super.  1 
hope  that  you  have  not  en- 
gaged all  of  your  supers  for 
your  play."  louis  mann. 


A  Letter  from  the  Road 


D 


M.\RioN,  Iowa. 
EAR  WIFE — You  have  often,   perhaps,  noted  the  scientific  and  investi- 
gative turn  of  my  mind.     Well,  recently  as  I  batted  around  the  country, 
I  made  up  my  intellect  to  sort  of  Ernest-Hyphen-Thompson-Setonize  that 
type  of  anthropoid   that  wears  celluloid   collars.     I  have  watched  these 
persons  in  their  daily  habits  and  habitats  until  I  feel  myself  fully  able  to  pass  a 
civil-service  e.xaniination  regarding  them. 

As  a  rule,  the  man  with  the  shining  celluloid  collar  has  on,  in  connection  and 
juxtaposition  therewith,  a  made-up  bow  tie  or  a  twenty-five-cent  four-in-hand. 
Clay  worsted  is  his  favorite  fix-up  suit,  and  for  choice  a  derby  hat  of  the  vintage 
of  1896.  Why  not?  It  is  as  good  as  new.  If  he  can't  get  a  pink  shirt,  some 
kind  with  a  red  stripe  will  do  very  well.  Also  his  neck  shows  that  he  shaves 
himself  occasionally,  and  reaches  as  far  as  possible  toward  the  centre  from 
both  sides,  leaving  a  pleasant,  shady-looking  thicket  down  the  centre  ravine,  giv- 
ing one  the  impression  that  possibly  it  continues  entirely  down  his  spinal  column. 
Hence  the  term  "rough-neck,"  as  applied  to  certain  citizens.  The  piece  of 
blank  paper  pasted  just  to  the  rear  of  his  left  ear  is  the  late  site  of  a  healthy  wart 
that  was  unintentionally  amputated  when  some  one  opened  the  kitchen  door 
against  his  upraised  elbow  while  he  was  effacing  the  herbage  from  his  visible 
portions. 

When  he  removes  his  hat,  if  he  ever  does,  which  is  seldom,  you  will  see  his 
hair  combed  in  a  nice  little  scallop  down  over  his   forehead.     He   has  always 

Q,,,^,„„  combed  it  so.     He  has  the  kind  of  mustache  men  pour  coffee  into  and   drink  it 

UEER    requests    come    to  ,  1      .  ^l   •     1  •  ^  ,     ■.  j         .    ,     ,  ■  ■  ,.  , 

afterward,  at  their  leisure.     Only  it  doesn  t  look  appetizing-   to  you   if  he  takes 
those  who  act.   but   here  •     ■.      m  -.u      j  u  u  ^  _,  ,_      , 

cream  in  it.  Neither  does  such  a  mustache  appear  much  improved  by  the  ad- 
dition of  mayonnaise  dressing,  though  the  celluloid-collar  man  seldom,  tackles 
anything  with  a  French  name.  If  you  have  to  sit  beside  him  at  the  lunch- 
counter  you  feel  like  holding,  his  arm  and  calling  an  ambulance  when  he  eats 
pie.  It  so  resembles  intended  felo-de-se.  (Look  up  this  word.  Am  I  handing 
'em  out  too  strong  for  you  ?) 

Afterward,  when  you  sit  beside  him  in  the  train,  you  can  hear  him,  distinctly, 
excavating  his  hollow  teeth,  by  suction.  To  hear  him  do  this  you  need  not  be 
just  beside  him,  either.  Anywhere  in  the  same  car  will  do,  if  the  train  isn't 
crossing  a  culvert  at  the  time. 

If  you  catch   a  faint  aroma  of  the  dairy-yard  or  the  horse-garage,  it  might 
possibly  come  from  the  celluloid  collar  man's  cowhide  pumps.     Or  maybe  not.     It  may  be  from  his  coat. 

The  celluloid-collar  man  reads  his  home  paper  with  frequency  and  faith,  and  the  metropolitan  sheet  with  sel- 
domness  and  suspicion.  If  you  diaw  him  forth  in  conversazione  (there's  a  warm  word,  old  girl),  he  will  tell  you  about 
the  time  he  saw  Secretary  Shaw  or  Tama  Jim  Wilson  of  the  hen  and  turnip  department,  of  T.  Roosevelt's  personally- 
conducted  country.  He  knows  the  price  of  hogs,  and  generally  knows  at  just  what  stage  of  the  cholera  to  sell  them 
so  that  they  will  be  a  loss  on  the  purchaser's  hands  instead  of  his  own.  He  is  as  honest  as  he  can  be  without  losing 
money.     But  he  has  a  family  to  support. 

He  is  not  an  especially  proud  person,  but  there's  hardly  any  living  with  him  if  he  knows  the  conductor's  first  name 
and  is  recognized  familiarly  right  in  public  by  that  dignitary.  Moreover,  he  has  never  quite  got  over  the  time  he  was 
at  Des  Moines  and  a  good  deal  depended  on  the  way  he  stood  in  the  gubernatorial  nomination  fight.  "  'I  golly,  I 
showed  'em  that  time  that  a  hayseed  like  me  wasn't  t'  be  grinned  at." 

He  may  also  tell  you,  if  you  become  intimate  with  him  and  win  his  confidence,  the  story  of  the  time  he  went  to 
Chicago  on  a  drover's  pass  and  took  a  bath  all  over  at  a  HO-tel.  Like  other  people,  he  remembers  best  the  things 
that  happened  a  long  time  ago. 

Sometimes  he  is  not  the  above  type,  for  he  may  be  the  leading  general  merchant  in  a  town  of  a  few  hundred,  and 
a  person  of  great   local  importance  that  he  is  only  waiting  to  resume  as  soon  as  he  gets  nearer  his  own  vine  and  fig- 
tree.    But  as  a  rule  he  fits  some  if  not  all  of  the  above  specifications.     I  have  studied  him  and  I  know.     Besides,  honey, 
I  used  to   wear  one  myself,  when  I  was  just  as  good,  and  in  some  ways  a  whole  lot  better  individual,  than  I  am  now. 
Somebody  in  our  family  is  wearing  that  same  collar  yet.  Lovingly,  Bill. 

per  STRICKLAND   W.   GILULAN. 

Must  Be  So. 

t(  CENATOR  GOTROX  says  that  when  he  started  out  in  life  he  only  made  one  dollar  and  thirty-five  cents  per  week." 
"^        "  Gad  !  who  would  ever  think  that  old  Gotrox  started  out  in  life  as  a  poet  ?" 


Mrs.  Mahoncy  and  the  "A^int" 

By  Max  Merryman 


M' 


'RS.  JUDY  MAHONEY  stood  in  the  open  door- 
way of  the  entry  leading  to  her  "tinnymint" 
in  Doody's  Court.  She  looi<ed  so  placid,  so 
guileless,  so  gullible,  that  the  agent,  who  had 
a  combination  teakettle,  potato  -  boiler  and 
bread  -  toaster  to  sell,  felt  confident  that  it  was  a 
case  of  "easy  fruit"  he  had  before  him.     Approaching 


THESE   UP-TO-DATE  FLATS  CERTAINLY  HAVE  ALL  THE 


Mrs.    Mahoney,    he    said    affably,   after    tipping  his    hat, 
"Good-morning,  madam." 

"  Is  it  me  you  are  shpakin"  to,  yang  man  ?" 

"  Yes,  madam  ;  I  have  here  a  " 

'■  Have  yeez,  indade  .'  Luk  at  thot,  now  !  Well,  well ! 
An'  where  did  yeez  get  it  ?  Sure,  an'  if  Oi  was  yeez  Oi— 
be  off  wid   yeez,  ye  botherin'  yangwans  !     Whin  it  comes 

to  tin  koinds  avdivilmint 
in  tin  minnits  thim  dago 
kids  here  in  de  coort 
takes  de  cake.  Be  off 
wid  yeez  or  Oi'll  ring  for 
de  cop  I" 

"  I  would  like  to  show 
you  something  in  which 
I  feel  sure  that  you  will 
be  highly  interested.      It 

is" 

"Is  it  so?  Well, 
well  !  Who  would  av 
t'ot  it  ?  Here  comes 
Honory  Mulligan.  Loike 
enough  she  would  be 
plazed  to  see  it,  for  she's 
the  aiger  eye  thot  loikes 
to  see  arl  there  is,  an'  de 
nimble  tongue  to  tell  av  it 
afterward.  Good-morn- 
in',  Honory.  Here's  a 
yang  gin  tl  em  an  wid 
somethin'  to  show  yeez 
—  God  above  only  knows 
phwat.  Yeez  are  out 
airly,  Honory.  Is  Mul- 
ligan at  wurruk  the 
day  ?" 

"  He  is,  ma'am — glory 
be  !  A  dollar  an'  sivinty- 
foive  a  day  for  eight 
hours  an'  de  job  loikely 
to  lasht  arl  winter." 

'•  Is  it  so  ?  Luk  at 
thot  now  !  Shure,  an' 
Mulligan  was  iver  wan 
to  land  on  his  fate.  It 
takes  de  loikes  av  him  to 
make  good  tin  toimes  out 
av  noine.  Loike  enough 
yeez  will  be  movin'  over 
on  to  Fift  Avenoo  now, 
an'  nixt  we  know  yeez 
will  be  hand  in  glove 
wid  de  Vanderbiltses  an' 
de  Carneggys  an"  arl 
MODERN   IMPROVEMENTS.      dat   gang,  an'  nixt  we'll 


^'^^F'i^.:^- 


THE   ONE   THING   NECESSARY. 
Herbert — "Well — er — if  you  married  me  I  could  at  least  give  you  all  the  necessities  of  life." 
Alice — "But  the  only  necessity  of  married  life  is  a  husband  who  can  provide  the  luxuries." 


see  yeez  in  your  own  awtymobill — thot  is,  if  it's  a  city 
job  Mulligan  has." 

"  It  is,  ma'am — glory  be  !     It's  a  " 

"  Ladies,  I  would  like  to  show  you  a  remarkably  clever 
invention  that  every  housewife  should  have.  It  will  bring 
water  to  a  boiling  heat  in  thirty  seconds,  and  " 

"  Think  av  thot,  Honory  Mulligan  !  Wather  b'ilin'  in 
t'irty  siconds  !  Thot  lays  over  Biddy  Noonan's  gash  range 
she's  so  chesty  over  ;  it's  nothin'  else  she'll  shpake  av  since 
iver  she  had  it  put  in.  De  airs  av  her  over  her  gash 
range  !     Wan  would  t'ink  it  was  aquil  to  sivinty-foive  dol- 


HIS  NEW  TEAM. 
'  Well,  well !     What  kind  of  a  team  are  you  driving,  my 


Visitor 
little  man  ?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  driving  a  spanking  pair, 


lars  in  de  savin's  bank  !  An'  her  hintin'  at  how  she's 
t'inkin'  av  puttin'  in  a  tillyphone.  Don't  thot  jar  yeez  ? 
She  was  iver  wan  to  be  givin'  herself  airs,  an'  hadn't  she 
de  come-down  though  whin  she  got  her  foldin'-bed  wid  de 
big  lookin'-glass  in  it  arl  on  paymints  av  fifty  cints  a 
wake,  an'  Noonan  out  av  a  job  in  two  wakes  afther  de 
bed  was  put  in.  Yis  ;  an'  de  men  from  de  paymints  shtore 
comin'  in  an'  takin"  de  bed  from  de  foive  or  six  av  us  thot 
was  sittin'  on  it  whin  Mrs.  Noonan  was  havin'  a  shmall 
tay-parthy  !  Oh,  but  wasn't  thot  de  come-down  though  ! 
A  paycock  wid  his  tail  feathers  arl  gone  wasn't  in  it  wid 
Mrs.  Noonan  whin  it  come  to  atin'  humble  pie  ! 
Sure,  an'  she'd  a  good  wide  slice  av  it  to  ate  thot 
toime,  but  she  got  over  it  soon,  an'  is  now  as  airy 
as  iver  wid  arl  her  talk  about  how  she  t'inks  av 
puttin'  in  a  tillyphone — Lord  save  us  !  To  hear 
her  go  on  about  how  aisy  it  would  be  to  '  ring 
up '  her  grocer,  an'  she'd  even  de  gall  to  tell  a  few 
av  us  who  was  havin'  a  cup  o'  tay  wid  Mrs. 
Murphy  the  other  day  thot  a  tillyphone  would 
save  her  many  a  thrip  to  her  dressmaker.  Luk 
at  thot  now  !     De  comfort  some  folks  get  out  av 

nothing  but  wind  is  " 

"  This  interesting  and  useful  household  inven- 
tion, ladies,  is  one  that  should  be  in  every  home. 

It  saves  time,  labor,  fuel  and  " 

"  Is  it  so,  yang  man  ?  Did  anny  wan  iver  ! 
Phwat  nixt  will  dey  be  invintin'  Oi  dunno  1  Did 
yeez  see  de  agint  along  here  one  day,  Mrs. 
Mulligan,  wid  a  whole  carpenter's  shop  an'  a 
shoemakin'  outfit,  an'  a  corkscrew,  an' a  toot'pick 
arl  in  a  pocket-knife,  an'  phwat  did  Julia  G'Dowd 
do  but  put  up  a  dollar  an'  a  half  for  wan  av  de 


t'ings,  an'  her  man  out  av  a  job  an'  her  gettin'  this  scan- 
dalized millc  free  for  her  baby  because  she  was  too  poor 
to  pay  for  it.  She  said  it  was  such  a  bargain  she  hadn't 
de  heart  to  let  it  go.  An'  isn't  she  de  great  wan  for  bar- 
gains ?  Luk  at  her  tin-dollar  jacket  marked  down  to 
ninety-nine  cints  she  got  over  on  Foort'  Avenoo  whin  her 
ould  man  got  a  foive-dollar  bill  for  carryin'  a  transper- 
nancy  in  de  big  political  parade,  an'  they  say  he  t'rew  in 
his  vote  arlso  for  de  foive  dollars,  but  Oi  dunno  if  he  did. 
Oi'm  not  wan  to  repate  for  a  fact  anything  Oi  he.-ir  floatin' 
around  in  de  coort.  Annyhow,  Julia  saved  a  dollar  from 
de  wreck  av  de  foive 
an'  wint  out  to  run 
down  a  bargain  wid  it, 
an'  she  got  dis  jacket 
at  a  foire  sale  marked 
down  from  tin  dollars 
to  ninety-nine  cints,  an' 
she  come  home  wid  it 
on  her  back,  an'  anny- 
wan  wid  a  glass  eye  cud 
see  it  was  t'ree  sizes  too 
shmall  for  her.  Well, 
Julia  wint  to  button  it 
up  toight  to  show  some 
av  us  de  iligant  fit  it 
was  in  de  back,  whin 
r-r-r-rip  it  wint  up  de 
back  seam  an'  hung  in 
two  pieces  from  de 
collar,  an'  " 

"  Ladies,  it  you  will 
give  me  just  a  moment 
or  two  of  your  time  I 
would  like  to  show  you 
just  how  this  invention 
works,  and  I  think  I  can 
convince  you  that" 

"  Julia  was  iver  wan 
to  mek  good  de  ould 
sayin'  thot  a  fool  an'  his 
money  niver  tarry  long 
together.  Wid  arl  de 
free  readin'  at  hand 
nowadays,  an'  that  An- 
dy Carneggy  scatterin' 
liberrys  around  loike 
wather  trom  a  watherin- 
pot,  phwat  does  Julia 
do  but  let  a  buk  agint 

blarney  her  into  payin'  t'ree  dollars  in  paymints  av  twinty- 
foive  cints  a  wake  for  a  book  av  poitry  by  some  wan  de 
agint  carled  de  poet-begorryet  of  Oireland.  Loike  enough 
de  agint  totild  a  lie  about  it,  for  if  anny  wan  can  bate  an 
agint  reelin'  off  de  lies  let  him  shtand  forth  an' — where 
is  that  yang  man  ?  There  he  goes  around  de  corner  ! 
Luk  at  thot  now  !  To  be  off  loike  thot  widout  showin'  us 
his  taypot  an' arl  de  other  t'ings  in  wan  !  Well,  well  !  J'y 
go  wid  him.  Good-by,  Mrs.  Mulligan.  Oi've  some 
bread  in  de  oven  thot  nades  me  attintion.  Loike  enough 
it's  burned   some  already  phwat  wid  dat  botherin'  agint 


kapin'  me  shtandin'  here  listening  to  his  palaver, 
tongues  these  agints  have  in  their  heads  !" 


Phwat 


The  Merry  Minstrels. 

((  'TWAS  las'  night,"  began  the  end-man  when  the  sweet- 
voiced  singer  had  concluded  a  pathetic  ballad.    "  Ah 
was  a-gwine  home  when  Ah  sees  a  big,  black  ghost." 

"  Hold  on,  Mr.  Bones  !"  cried  the  middle-man.  "  Who 
ever  heard  of  a  black  ghost  .■"  You  should  know  better 
than  to  announce  to  this  large  and  intelligent  audience 
that  you  saw   a   black  ghost.      Let   me    inform  you,    for 


A    CONTRA.ST. 


The  man  with  a  bundle  enjoying  his  wealth. 


Tlie  poor  devil  without  it  enjoying  his  health. 


future  reference,  that 
all  ghosts  are  white." 

"  M  is  ta  h  Center- 
piece, yo'  am  wrong," 
protested  the  end-man. 
"Ah  has  seen  blue, 
green  an'  yellah  ghosts, 
an'  pink  an'  red  ghosts, 
an'  " 

"  Mr.  Bones,  your 
ignorance  is  amazing. 
But  as  you  can't  pos- 
sibly prove  your  absurd 
claim  that  you've  seen  a 
colored  ghost,  our  pop- 
ular tenor,  Mr.  Hinote, 
will  render  that  appeal- 
ing bit  of  sentimental- 
ity, '  When  Brother  Jim 
Was  Boarding  with  the 
State.'  " 

' '  Ah  got  proof— Ah 
got  proof !"  cried  the 
end-man  as  the  tenor 
arose  to  warble.  "  Ah 
knows  dat  Ah've  seen 
blue,  green  an'  red 
ghosts.  Kase  why  ? 
Kase  ghosts  am  all 
shades.  Dat's  mah  an- 
swer." 


For  Her. 

"U/  H  AT  I  want," 
pants  the  comic- 
opera  star  who  had  ac- 
quired a  superabun- 
dance of  flesh,  '■  what  I 
want  is  a  vehicle  for 
the  proper  display  of  my  personality.     I  don't  want  any 

ordinary  " 

"  No,  Miss  Fatyette,"  interposes  the  playwright.  "  You 
don't  want  any  ordinary  vehicle.  How  would  an  automo- 
bile truck  do,  in  these  days  of  auto-drama  ?" 

Profitable. 

"  \i/AS  her  summer  boarding-house  profitable  ?" 

"  You  bet  it  was  !  Her  guests  bought  so  many 
crackers  that  every  grocery-store  in  the  village  paid  divi- 
dends." 


The  Fuf.fuf-fate  of  Reform. 

LECTION    tut- tut -time   is 
o'er, 
The   offices    are   fuf-fuf- 
filled, 
And  ringing  pup-pup-prom- 
ises 


Of  sweeping,  stem  reform  are  stilled. 
I've  been  around  the  tut-tut-town  ; 

It  lul-lul-looks  the  sus-sus-same. 
If  there's  reform  it  didn't  touch 

McSweeney's  pup-pup-poker  game ! 

I  found  it  running  full  bub-blast, 
And  all  the  gug-gug-gang  was  there  ; 
Old  Mum-Mum-Mack  was  looking  on 
From  huh-huh-his  accustomed  chair. 
"  Th'  vote  was  solid  f  r  r'form," 

He  sus-sus-said  to  mum-mum-me  ; 
"  But  all  th'  side  dud-dud-dud-doors 
Is  open  like  they  used  t'  be." 

Then  B-B-B-B-B-B-Bill, 

Who  holds  a  city  j-j-job, 
Explained  that,  while  reform  is  here, 

Most  all  he  does  is  rur-nir-rob. 
It  sus-sus-seems  to  mum-mum-me 

That  fuf-fuf-folks  had  better  take 
Another  hobby,  then  reform 

May  sus-sus-sneak  in  by  mistake. 

CHARI-ES    R.  BARNES. 

The  Joke-car. 

((UE  earned  the  money  for  his  auto  by  writing  jokes." 

'So  he  told  me — says  he  calls  it  the  '  bon-mot  '-or 


!\,i^-*^*^ 


PLENTY   OF  TIME. 
City  man  (with  important  engagi/nent) — "  Suffering  Caesar  ! 
catch  that  train  at  this  rate  of  going  ?" 

Stranger — "Ain't  your  ticket  good  for  thirty  days?" 


Red  Revenge. 

<<  CO  you  spurn  meh  !"  he  cries  in  wrathful  woe.  "  But 
I  shall  have  my  revenge  !" 

"  Ha,  ha  !"  laughs  the  heartless  maiden. 

"  You  may  laugh  now,  but  wait  !  In  the  four  years  I 
have  known  you,  you  have  given  me  six  photographs  of 
yourself.  Each  one  of  these  I  shall  have  enlarged  by  the 
cheap  crayon  process  and  presented  to  your  various 
friends  and  relatives." 

Leaving  the  frightened  girl  in  a  swoon  the  cruel  swain 
departs  with  the  melodramatic  tread  of  one  who  will  stop  at 
nothing. 

The  Schoolma'am's  Apology. 

AN  extremely  proper  young  New  England  woman  was  a 
kindergartener  in  a  large  city.  Getting  into  a  street- 
car one  day,  she  bowed  to  a  man  whom  she  thought  was 
the  father  of  two  of  the  children  under  her  charge.  As 
soon  as  she  had  done  so  she  realized  her  mistake,  and  as 
he  got  off  the  car  at  the  same  time  as  herself,  she  stepped 
up  to  him  and  said, 

"  Please  pardon  my  speaking  to  you,  but  I  thought  you 
were  the  father  of  two  of  my  children." 

Nature's  Compensation. 

(( IVJATURE, "  said  the  man  with  the  pickle  nose,  "  never 

takes  away  that  she  does  not  give.     In  every  deed 

of  hers  there  is   both  loss  and  gain.     Now,  for  instance, 

take  my  own  case.     Nature  designed  that  my  hair  should 

be  thin,  while  my  " 

"  While  your  head  is  thick,"  finished  the  man  with  the 
old-rose  whiskers,  who  had  been  trying  for  half  an  hour 
to  edge  in  a  word. 

Qualified. 

«  jUY  DEAR,"  said  the 
dyspeptic  husband, 
"  this  new  girl  can't  cook 
for  a  cent,  and  she  knows 
absolutely  nothing  about 
serving  a  meal.  Why  do 
you  keep  her." 

"  Because  her  hair  is 
the  precise  tone  of  red  to 
harmonize  exactly  with 
the  dining-room  hang- 
ings. Anybody  could  see 
that." 

Euphony. 

((  UE  eats  pie  for  break- 
fast," they  say  to 
the  beautiful  young  thing 
who  is  going  to  be  intro- 
duced to  the  man. 

"  How  uncouth  !"  she 
shudders. 

"  But  he  is  worth  forty 
millions,"  they  continue. 

"  All,  he  is  not  un- 
couth," her  mother  says 
gently.  "He  is  merely  ec- 
centric, Millicent,  dear." 


IIow  do  you  expect  i'm  going  to 


«.  K  H  « 

w  3;  a  2 

E  f-  E  ^ 

t-   en  H  tn 


Compensations 

of  Deafness. 

A  MAN  who  had  traveled 
and   observed    much 
decided  to  become  deaf. 

"It  is  a  misfortune,"  he 
said  ;  "  but  there  are  com- 
pensations— if  one  is  not  too 
deaf.  I  spent  two  days  re- 
cently in  a  country  hotel 
with  a  man  who  was  just 
comfortably  hard  of  hear- 
ing, and  he  certainly  had 
every  reason  to  consider 
himself  a  wonderfully  wise 
man.  He  was  invincible  in 
argument.  Just  think  what 
a  pleasurable  feeling  of  in- 
fallibility must  come  to  a 
man  who  is  invincible  in 
argument  !  No  matter  how 
absurd  the  position  he  took, 
he  was  able  to  maintain  it 
against  all  comers.  I  know, 
because  he  lured  me  into 
various  arguments  and  in- 
variably overcame  me.  He 
would  make  a  statement 
and  I  would  flatly  contradict 
it,  but  that  made  no  dififer- 
ence  to  him.  He  would  ac- 
cept my  contradiction  as  an 
indorsement  of  his  position 
and  continue  his  disserta- 
tion. When  I  got  a  chance 
I  would  advance  a  few  ar- 
guments on  the  other  side. 

"  '  I  am  glad,'  he  would 
say  calmly,  '  that  you  accept  my  views.' 

"  '  But  I  don't  accept  your  views,"  I  would  protest. 

"  '  What  !'  he  would  cry.  '  What  did  you  say  ?' 
~  "I  would  go  over  my  argument  again,  and  he  would 
make  me  repeat  several  parts  of  it  three  or  four  times. 
Then  he  would  undertake  to  answer  what  I  had  said,  in- 
cidentally misquoting  me.  I  would  correct  him,  but  it 
was  a  difficult  and  tiresome  thing  to  do,  and  finally  I 
would  let  him  ramble  along. 

"  I  tried  to  avoid  him  after  that,  but  it  was  no  use  ;  he 
was  convinced  that  he  had  great  persuasive  powers,  prob- 
ably as  a  result  of  practicing  on  others  like  me,  and  he 
wanted  to  be  sure  that  I  was  converted  to  his  views  on  every- 
thing. It  set  me  to  thinking  of  others  I  knew  who  were 
•  a  little  hard  of  hearing  '^not  really  deaf,  you  know — and 
I  could  see  that  there  was  some  sort  of  a  compensation  for 
each  of  them.  One  fellow,  who  could  hear  nearly  every- 
thing else,  never  could  hear  a  request  for  an  increase  of 
salary,  and  he  wore  out  every  man  who  asked  for  one. 
That  was  the  way  with  this  deaf  controversialist ;  he  wore 
me  out.  He  had  me  tacitly  pledged  to  every  sort  of  an 
absurdity,  and  he  was  so  proud  of  his  success  that  he  was 
strutting  about  like  a  turkey-cock.     When  I  was  leaving 


Johnny  Hippo — ' 
Ticket-agent — '• 


GETTING   HIS   MONEY'S   WORTH. 
Give  me  a  half-fare  ticket  to  Jungleburg." 
Heavens  !    it  wouldn't  take  many  of  these  to  ruin  the  road." 

I  heard  him  say  to  the  landlord,  '  Yes,  he's  a  pretty  good 
fellow ;  but  no  match  for  me  in  an  argument.  1  downed 
him  every  time  and  made  him  own  up  to  it.' 

"So  I've  decided   to  become  deaf,  or  at  least  'a  little 
hard  of  hearing.'  "  eluott  flower. 


The  Decline  of  Poetry. 

I  HAVE  read  a  lot  of  essays  in  which  the  writers  told 
That  poetry  is  not  the  wondrous  thing  it  was  of  old  ; 
That  poets  writing  nowadays  don't  care  about  the  verse 
So  much  as  what  the  poem  brings — the  lining  of  the  puise 
(Poetic  lining,  so  to  speak,  at  just  so  much  a  line). 
No  wonder  they  say  poetry  has  gone  on  the  decline. 
Yes,  poetry  's  declining  ;  and  I  think  it  not  amiss 
To  say  perhaps  the  fall  began 

With 

Verse 

Like 
This. 

FRANKLIN  P.  ADAMS. 


Vi/E   HEAR   much   of  Plain   Duty.     It  may  be  because 
"      she  is   plain   that   so   few   people   have  anything   to 


do  with  her. 


A  Dinner  of  Pets. 

UE  HAD  married  an  actress,  though  she  wasn't  exactly 
an  actress  at  that.     She  was  only  a  chorus-girl  who, 
with  extraordinary  feminine  obstinacy,  thought  she  could 
act  on  the  stage  as  well  as  she  could  in  private  life. 

His  aunt,  who  was  rich,  didn't  disinherit  him,  although 
she  looked  on  the  stage  as  extremely  vulgar.  Of  course 
they  were  poor,  but  they  managed  to  exist  in  a  Harlem 
flat. 

One  evening  he  received  a  telegram  from  his  aunt, 
which  said  that  she  was  coming  to  New  York  to  see  his 
bride.  She  would  stay  the  night  at  a  neighboring  hotel, 
but  would  like  to  have  dinner  with  them.  The  telegram 
was  sent  at  noon,  but,  owing  to  some  mischance,  it  was 
not  delivered  at  Edwin's  flat  until  6.15  p.  m.  His  aunt, 
he  found  by  looking  at  the  time-table,  would  arrive  at 
7.15  p.  m.  What  was  to  be  done?  The  ice-box  was 
searched.  There  was  nothing  there  but  a  r6chauf6e  of 
mutton  and  some  cold  potatoes.  Edwin  found  he  had 
fifty  cents.  His  wife's  purse  yielded  two  buttons,  a  key 
and  a  receipted  bill  for  a  yard  of 
ribbon.  It  was  too  late  to  pawn 
anything.  With  a  groan  Edwin 
sank  into  a  chair. 

Suddenly  he  saw  a  smile  on  his 
wife's  face. 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  said  she.  "I'll 
fix  it  all  right." 

Edwin  was  only  too  glad  to  do 
so,  being  a  believer  in  the  ingenuity 
of  the  other  sex. 

At  seven-forty-five  his  aunt  made 
her  appearance.  Edwin  gasped 
when  he  saw  the  table  spread. 
The  first  course,  his  wife  announced, 
would  be  red  mullet,  and  sure 
enough  there  they  were  on  dainty 
buttered  papers.  Then  there  were 
larks  on  toast,  and  after  that  a  rab- 
bit. His  aunt  declared  she  had 
never  enjoyed  a  dinner  so  much, 
and  in  due  course  left  for  her  hotel. 

In  a  month  Edwin  received  an- 
other telegram  saymg  that  his  aunt 
had  died  suddenly  from  apoplexy. 
In  due  course  of  time  her  will  was 
read,  and  Edwin  and  his  wife  are 
now  in  affluence,  and  they  both 
have  cause  to  remember  the  occa- 
sion on  which  they  had  to  sacrifice 
their  lovely  gold  fish,  their  tuneful 
canaries,  and  their  pet  rabbit  to  pro- 
vide a  dinner  for  their  aunt,  and  so 
indirectly  provide  for  themselves  a 
competence  for  life. 

LA  TOUCHE  HANCOCK. 


A  Choice. 

(jVOU  have  charge  of  the  Si'iiday -school,  mister, 
'      And  for  us  a  teacher  you'll  liunt ; 
But  if  it's  not  too  great  a  trouble 

We  prefer  one  like  Mary  Jane  Lunt. 

"  We've  listened  to  some  of  her  teaching, 
She  never  makes  much  of  a  din — 
Just  gives  a  text  or  'lustration, 
And  don't  keep  rubbing  it  in. 

"  Your  mission-school  is  all  right,  sir. 

With  some  rather  bad  habits  we've  broke  ; 
But  we  need  Mary  Jane's  kind  of  doctrin', 
The  truth  left  to  soak  in,  sir — soak." 

CHARLES  N.  SINNETT. 

Extenuating. 

Nippan  —  "He  married  a  divorced  woman,  didn't 
he?" 

7}/c^'-"Yes;  but  she  had  only  been  divorced  a  few 
days." 


COME  people  patch  up  their  old 
-  quarrels  until  they  are  almost 
as  good  as  new. 


THE  FOUNDER. 

The  friend — "  She  's  very  good-looking.     Does  she  come  ot  a  good  family?" 

The  artist—"  She's  the  first  of  her  race,  hatched  in  an  incubator,  from  an  artificial  egg. 


m 


Too  Enthusiastic. 

ARRY  me !"  pleads 
the  enamored 
youth.  "  I  will 
make  your  life  one  lonj: 
dav  of  sunshine  and  son  g 
Roses  shall  reach  their 
ruby  hands  across  your 
path  and  bend  to  kiss 
you  with  their  trembling 
lips.  The  radiance  ot 
rare  jewels  shall  gladden 
your  eyes,  and  the  won- 
drous lustre  of  rare  fab- 
rics shall  ever  lend  "their 
charm  to  you.  We  sh.ill 
feed  upon  the  honey  ot 
Hymettus  and  quaff  the 
nectar  of  the  gods  from 
a  chalice  of  gold.     You 

shall " 

•'  Harold,"  she  inter- 
rupted, "  have  you  con- 
tracted the  Nikola  Tesla 
germ  ?' 

Musical. 
((  I   AM  the  janitor  of 

*  five  flats,"  stated 
the  sad-faced  man,  re- 
moving his  countenance 
from  the  mug  of  beer. 

The  others  waited  for 
him  to  continue. 

"  Of  course,"  he  re- 
sumes, "  with  five  flats 
to  watch,  I  have 
to  be  careful 
about  my  staff; 
but  even  then  I 
have  my  trou- 
bles." 

Here  we  ask 
the  inevitable 
question. 

"The  chief 
trouble,"  he  said, 
"  is  that  a  con- 
ductor who  lives 
in  the  place  never 
can  find  the  key." 

Bass,  bass  ! 
Who  would  have 
thought  it  of  a 
sad-faced  man  ? 


WELL  UP  IN  SAILIXG-CR.\FT. 

Harold — "  Jerrold  has  bought  a  sail-boat." 
Alice — "  But  does  he  know  anything  about  a  sail-boat?" 
Harold — '•  Oh,  yes.     He  has  got  his  life  insured  and 
joined  the  church.' 


An  Irreduci- 
ble  Fracture. 

R.  SPLINTEM,  the 
surgeon, "declared 


the  man  with  the 
red  shingles  on  his  house, 
"  is  the  most  expert  man 
in  his  profession  in  the 
city." 

"Indeed?"  politely 
asked  the  man  with  the 
iron  dog  on  his  lawn. 

"  Yes,  sir.  Why,  there 
isn't  any  kind  of  a  frac- 
ture that  he  can't  set,  and 
set  perfectly." 

"Is  that  so?"  mur- 
mured the  man  with  the 
iron  dog  on  his  lawn. 
"  Now,  I  wonder  if  he 
would  be  any  good  at 
setting  a  broken  egg  ?" 

Miserable  Country. 


i< 


R' 


HCHES  have 
wings,  and 
in  lime  they 
will  have  flying- 
machines. 


See  the  dog  and  the  can. 

The  dog  can  go  fast. 

So  can  the  can. 

Can  the  dog  go  as  fast  as  the  can  can  ? 


C.A.N   YOU   SOLVE  THIS? 
He  can. 
Does  the  dog  make  the  can  go, 

the  can  make  the  dog  go  ? 
Ask  the  dear  teacher. 


VOU    fellows    need 

never  worr^'  about 

Uncle    Sam    interfering 

with  your  government," 

says  the  yankee  tourist. 

"  Indeed  ?"  asks  the 
South  American  citizen 
incredulously.  "  And 
why  ?"  '» 

"  Your  country  is  too 
small  for  a  canal 
^    and    not    big 
enough  for  a  rev- 
olution." 


Qualified. 

CHE  sings 
■^  like  a  bird," 
we  whisper  to 
our  companion,  a 
fair  young  thing 
who  has  accom- 
panied us  to  the 
recital  given  by 
a  rival  belle. 

"  She  oug  ht 
to,"  replies  the 
gentle  damsel. 
"She  talks  like 
a  parrot,  every- 
body says  she 
is  a  goose,  and 
she  is  pigeon- 
toed." 


i( 


•  does 


The  Reforms  of  Chiang-Ho 


By  LA  TOUCHE  HANCOCK 


THERE  was  once  on  a  time  an  emperor  whose 
name  was  Kiang.  He  had  other  titles, 
which,  being  translated,  meant  "  Light  of 
lights,"  "  Illuminated  son  of  the  east,"  and 
so  on,  but  he  was  generally  known  as 
Kiang.  He  had  four  hundred  wives,  ten 
thousand  elephants,  a  thousand  white  eu- 
fiuchs,  a  multitude  of  black  servants,  and  other  incum- 
brances too  numerous  to  be  mentioned.  He  loved  all  his 
wives,  but  there  was  one  possession  he  loved  more  dearly. 
He  was  absolutely  enamored  of  a  huge  mirror  which  hung 
in  his  palace.  'It  showed  him  a  figure  of  which  he  had  a 
very  favorable  opinion.  As  the  years  passed  by  he  arrived 
at  that  state  of  life  when  the  mirror  did  not  do  its  duty  so 
much  to  his  satisfaction  as  it  had  formerly  done.  One 
comfort,  however,  remained  to  him,  which  reflected  all 
his  youthful  charms.  That  comfort  was  his  eldest  son. 
Prince  Chiang-Ho. 

The  emperor  Kiang,  on  looking  into  his  mirror  one  day, 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had  not  by  any  means  made 
the  best  of  his  life.  He  then  and  there  determined  that  what 
he  had  left  undone  should  be  remedied  by  his  prototype, 
Chiang-Ho.  He  decided  that  his  son  should  be  educated 
according  to  the  New-World  principles,  and  accordingly 
made  arrangements  to  send  him  to  America.  In  order 
that  his  offspring  might  not  be  subjected  to  the  ridicule 
generally  thrown  on  eastern  people,  he  bestowed  upon 
him  the  name  of  Chisholm,  which  was  the  nearest  ap- 
proach he  could  think  of  to  Chiang-Ho.  He  ordered  his 
hair  cut,  and  fitted  him  out  with  a  wardrobe  obtained  in 
England  which  would  have  done  credit  to  any  scion  of 
Fifth  avenue.  He  then  intrusted  him  to  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  a  boarding-school  in  New  York  county,  and  after- 
ward sent  him  to  one  of  the  leading  colleges. 

This  event  happened  some  years  before  this  story 
opens.  Chiang-Ho,  or  Chisholm,  was  now  approaching 
the  age  when  he  might  be  said  to  have  finished  his  edu- 
cation. Being  of  an  inquisitive  nature,  Kiang  determined 
to  fetch  his  son  home  himself.  He  wished  to  see  the 
scene  of  his  boy's  education.  Accordingly  a  spare  man- 
of-war,  none  too  stable,  was  fitted  out,  and  Kiang  took 
his  departure  amidst  the  good  wishes  of  his  subjects. 

Two  months  elapsed.  Nothing  was  heard  of  or  from 
Kiang.  The  man-of-war  had  not  even  been  spoken  with. 
Three  months  went  by  and  still  the  same  silence.  At 
the  end  of  the  fourth  month,  as  all  hope  of  the  safety  of 
Kiang  had  been  given  up,  a  letter  was  dispatched  to 
Chiang-Ho  beseeching  him  to  come  home  at  once,  as  the 
people  were  in  a  state  of  unrest,  which  would  probably 
lead  to  insurrection.  Chiang-Ho  wasn't  much  pleased  at 
this  letter  or  the  intelligence  it  conveyed.  He  was  per- 
fectly comfortable  where  he  was,  had  plenty  of  money  to 
spend,  and  was  not  at  all  anxious  to  return  to  surround- 


ings which,  he  was  quite  sure,  would  be  particularly 
irksome.  He  felt  that  he  was  going  back  to  barbarism, 
or  at  all  events  semi-barbarism,  from  a  refined  civilization. 
However,  as  noblesse  oblige  played  a  part  in  his  char- 
acter, he  set  out  homeward.  He  was  received  with  accla- 
mations. The  whole  of  the  city  went  wild,  and  enough 
fire-crackers  were  set  off  on  the  night  of  his  arrival  to 
break  the  drum  of  the  strongest  ear.  He  was  escorted  to 
the  palace  with  shouts  of  universal  joy  amidst  a  discord 
of  native  music  that  set  his  teeth  on  edge. 

For  a  week  he  allowed  the  festivities  to  continue. 
Then,  thinking  it  was  about  time  to  make  his  authority 
felt,  he  sent  for  the  grand  vizier.  The  latter  approached 
him  on  all  fours,  salaaming.  When  he  had  made  his 
obeisances  he  inquired  the  will  of  the  celestial  majesty. 
Chiang-Ho  burst  out  laughing. 

"Quit  that  celestial  business,"  said  he.  "Now,  look 
here,  my  vizier,  I  am  about  to  make  some  innovations. 
You  people  over  here  mean  well,  but  you  are  a  trifle  be- 
hind the  times." 

The  vizier  was  astonished. 

' '  Yes,"  continued  Chiang-Ho  ;  ' '  there  must  be  some  re- 
forms. Now,  just  for  a  start,  for  goodness'  sake  don't 
come  into  my  presence  as  if  you  were  a  beetle.  Don't 
crawl.  Walk.  And  stop  that  salaaming  business.  It]s 
idiotic." 

The  surprise  of  the  vizier  increased.  He  was  speech- 
less. 

"  I  want  you  all  to  behave  like  human  beings.  There 
is  absolutely  no  sense  in  all  this  kotowing.  It  isn't  neces- 
sary or  pretty.     Cut  it  out !" 

The  word  "  cut"  suggested  nothing  else  in  the  mind 
of  the  vizier  but  beheading.  He  was  about  to  ask  who 
the  victim  was  to  be  when  his  master  went  on, 

"  How  about  the  harem  my  father  left .?  They  must 
be  got  rid  of.  Yes  ;  all  of  them,  except,  of  course,  my  own 
mother." 

"  But  " began  the  vizier  with  remonstrance. 

"  No  ;  there  are  no  '  buts '  about  it  I     They  must  go  !" 

"  But,"  again  began  the  vizier,  and  this  time  he  was 
allowed  to  continue,  "your  majesty  will  surely  wish  to 
marry." 

"  Not  on  your  life  !"  replied  Chiang-Ho.  "  In  any  case, 
I  shall  not  require  four  hundred  wives." 

"Not  marry?"  The  idea  was  extraordinary.  The  vizier 
had'  the,-.temerity  to  say  so.  He  went  so  far  as  to  ask 
whether-  there  was  not  any  marriage  in  the  land  from 
which  his  iffejesty  had  lately  come. 

"  Oh,  yes  !"  answered  Chiang-Ho.  "There's  lots  of 
marrying,  but  to  an  uncivilized  mind  like  yours  it  would 
seem  that  they  only  got  married  to  obtain  a  divorce. 
That  is  done  frequently." 

"  And  do  they  go  on  marrying  ? '  ventured  the  vizier. 


"  As  a  rule.  That  is,  until  they  meet  the  person  they 
ought  to  have  married  in  the  first  instance.  The  method 
is  rather  expensive,  but  it's  sure  in  the  long  run." 

The  vizier  expressed  his  opinion  that  it  was  an  extraor- 
dinarj'  country. 

"  It  is,"  replied  his  majesty.  "  But  about  that  harem. 
I  think  you'd  better  advertise  them  in  the  daily  paper  I 
am  about  to  start,  and  marry  them  off  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

"But,  your  majesty,"  remonstrated  the  vizier,  "  your 
religion,  the  priests  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  take  care  of  that.  The  first  divorce  will  be 
that  of  church  and  state." 

The  vizier  nearly  swooned. 

"  Now  for  lunch.  Oh,  by  the  way,"  added  Chiang-Ho 
as  he  went  toward  the  dining-hall,  "  please  get  some 
chairs.  I've  had  enough  of  this  uncomfortable  picnick- 
ing business.  I  absolutely  detest  sitting  like  a  cobbler  on 
a  cushion,  or  lounging  on  a  couch  during  my  meals. 
Just  see  to  that  little  item,  and,  if  you  can't  get  the  cook 
to  serve  up  a  decent  meal,  sack  him.  I'm  tired  of  his 
atrocities." 

"Sack  him,"  thought  the  vizier,  could  only  mean  tying 
him  in  a  sack  and  casting  him  into  the  river. 

■•  It  shall  be  done,  your  majesty,"  said  the  vizier. 

"  And  wait  a  minute.  Where  on  earth  do  you  get 
this  abominable  wine  ?  If  there  isn't  a  soul  in  the  place 
who  knows  how  to  mix  a  cocktail  I'll  do  it  myself.  I 
don't  suppose,  though,  you've  got  the  ingredients.  Never 
mind,  I'll  send  for  them.  One  must  be  civilized.  Now 
you  can  go.     Later  on  I  may  have  a  few  more  orders." 

The  vizier  departed  and  immediately  gave  orders  to 
have  the  cook  sewn  up  in  a  bag  and  thrown  into  the 
river. 

So  began  the  reforms 
of  Chiang-Ho.  His  sub- 
jects at  first  didn't  take 
very  kindly  to  the  various 
changes  in  their  mode  of 
life,  but  gradually  got  ac- 
customed to  them.  The 
dwelling-place  ot  the  ha- 
rem was  converted  into  a 
huge  lecture-hall.  There 
multifarious  societies  met, 
of  which  women's  clubs 
formed  the  greatest  part. 
The  society  for  promoting 
woman's  suffrage  w  a  s 
much  in  evidence,  while 
the  anti  -  chewing  -  gum 
league  always  attracted  a 
large  assemblage  of  native 
up-to-date  chorus-girls, 
who  had  been  initiated  in- 
to the  beauties  of  musical 
comedy.  Politics  was  in- 
troduced into  the  city,  and 
no  one  was  permitted  to 
join  the  police  force  unless 
thoroughly  versed  in   the 


art  of  diplomacy.  The  games  were  revolutionized  and 
the  music  thoroughly  overhauled.  Popular  songs  came 
into  vogue,  and  even  rag-time  had  its  little  day.  Chiang- 
Ho  thought  of  abolishing  the  monarchy  and  having  him- 
self elected  as  president,  but,  like  a  good  many  republic- 
ans, he  found  regal  accessories  exceedingly  enticing.  He 
had  a  huge  society  formed,  wliich  he  called  "  The  Titular 
Tiger."  This  was  euphonic  and  meant  little,  for  Chiang- 
Ho  was  still  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed.  Still,  it  brought 
back  reminiscences  of  another  coterie  in  the  land  where 
he  had  been  educated. 

To  say  the  reforms  of  Chiang-Ho  were  not  successful 
would  be  untrue.  They  were  at  the  beginning,  but,  un- 
luckily, and  maybe  naturally,  abuses  crept  in  which  were 
so  similar  to  those  he  had  seen  in  his  tutelage  days  that 
he  was  in  despair  of  carrying  out  his  great  schemes.  In 
fact,  he  was  afraid  he  would  have  to  reform  his  reforms. 
He  did  not  quite  see  how  he  was  going  to  do  that  without 
going  back  to  uncivilization.  He  was  certainly  absolute 
in  power,  and  yet  he  wished  he  could  see  a  way  of  arous- 
ing the  people  to  a  spirit  of  independence  and  liberty, 
which  they  sadly  lacked,  without  their  infringing  on  his 
powers. 

A  deputation  waited  on  him  about  two  years  after  he 
had  introduced  his  new  methods.  Instead  of  salaaming  and 
kotowing,  all  the  members  walked  in  with  a  self-satis- 
fied air  and  at  once  placed  themselves  on  a  footing  of 
equality  with  him.  This  proceeding  was  rather  novel. 
Still,  Chiang-Ho  was  glad  to  see  that  the  urging  of  his 
subjects  toward  independence  was  bearing  fruit,  though 
he  fancied  at  the  moment  they  had  higher  aims  than  he 
cared  them  to  have.  The  deputation  represented  to  him 
that  they  thought  it  was  about  time  they  had  a  hand  in 
the  affairs  of  the  nation.     He  was  certainly  their  emperor. 


Ladv- 

GlRL- 


PATERNAL  ADmRATION. 
'  Ah  !  what  a  nice,  large,  healthy  baby  !" 
'  Yes'm.     Pop  t'inks  as  much  uv  dat  baby  as  if  he  wuz  a  bird-dog.' 


DISAPPOINTING. 
The  broiler — "  One  thing  is  sure — aerial  navi 
gation  is  not  the  fun  it's  cracked  up  to  be." 

They  acknowledged  that,  but  they  felt  they  had  not  yet  an 
unrestrained  liberty.     At  pre.sent,  for  instance,  he  had  an 
hereditary  right  to   order  their  heads  to  be  chopped  off. 
They  wanted  that  cut  out.     (It  was  strange  how  they  hai 
acquired  the  phrases  of  liberty  !)     They  wanted  a  govern 
ment  by  the   people,  for  the   people,  and  of  the   people 
Chiang-Ho   fancied  he   had  heard  this  phrase  before,  and 
wondered  how  they  had  acquired  it.     He   asked.     They 
answered   that  it  had  become  the  watchword  of  lil)erty 
Reform    had  apparently  made  them  unconscious  plagia 
rists.     After  hearing  all   their  arguments  Chiang-Ho  said 
he  would   consider   their    petition,  and   they  left   with   a 
somewhat  audible  threat  on  their  faces,  if  not  on  their 
lips,  as  to  what  would  happen  if  he  did  not  accede  to  their 
request.     If  he  didn't  do  as  they  asked,  one  of  them  was 
heard  to  mutter,  "  things  would   happen" — another  phrase 
that    had    unconsciously    made    its   appearance    amongst 
them. 
^      Chiang-Ho  was  now  seriously  disturbed.     His  reform 
had   gone  a  little   further  than   he   had   intended.     This 
natural   growth   had  never  struck  him.     What  was  he  to 
do  ?     The  answer  came   in  an   une.xpected  manner.     At 
the  very  moment   when    he   was    hesitating    as  to   what 
should   be  his   plan  of  action  an  old   man  rushed  into  the 
room  where  he  was  sitting  and,  crying  out  in  the  vernac- 
ular, "  My  son  !    My  son  !"  threw   himself   into   Chiang- 
Ho's  arms. 

It  was  his  father,  Kiang  !     Chiang-Ho  was  astounded. 

Leading  the  old  man  to  a  couch  he  elicited  the  follow- 
ing story  : 

his  lather  had  been  wrecked,  thrown  on  an  uninhab- 
ited island,  had  lived  on  penguins'  eggs  and  other  things, 
n 


which  might  be  pronounced  delicacies  where  they  were 
not  in  abundance,  and,  after  nearly  two  years,  had  been 
rescued.  Glad  as  any  son  would  be  to  see  his  father  after 
so  many  terrible  experiences,  Chiang-Ho  did  not  feel  at 
all  at  his  ease.  He  didn't  quite  know  how  his  father 
would  take  to  the  novelty  of  the  situation,  which  he 
would  most  assuredly  find  in  his  kingdom.  He  found 
out  almost  at  once.  The  news  spread  that  the  old  em- 
peror had  returned.  A  more  turbulent  celebration  than 
that  which  had  greeted  Chiang-Ho  was  held.  Chiang-Ho 
had  of  necessity  to  relinquish  the  reins  of  the  government 
to  his  father,  and  what  Kiang  thought  of  the  whole  affair 
may  best  be  illustrated  by  what  he  said  to  his  son  in  a 
rather  strenuous  interview  later  on. 

"I  have  found  out,"  said  Kiang,  "what  you  have 
done,  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  you  acted  as  you 
thought  best.  You  introduced  politics.  As  far  as  I  can 
make    out,    the   consequence    of  that    innovation    is  that 


HER    SUGGESTION    Al-TER    IHE   SHOW. 
He — "  Speaking  of  debts,  how  much  did  Rome-o?" 
She—"  For  what  Juli-et,  of  course." 


every  one  is  at  loggerheads.  You  abolished  all  our  old 
customs.  The  outcome  of  that  step  has  been  very  disas- 
trous. You  have  made  the  people  restive  for  something 
better  than  they  had  or  what  they  have  got.  You  would 
have  none  of  our  domesticities.  I  understand,  as  a  con- 
sequence, that  the  divorce  court,  which  you  established, 
is  crowded  with  cases.  Bribery  is  rampant,  even  more  so 
than  it  used  to  be,  and  crime  of  all  sorts  is  overwhelming. 
Tlie  women,  too — the  women,"  and  here  Kiang  threw  up 
I. is  hands,  "  have  come  to  consider  they  are  our  equals. 
My  son,  you  have  not  done  well." 

Chiang-Ho  hung  down  his  head. 

"No,  my  father,"  he  replied  after  thinking  a  moment, 
••  maybe  I  have  not  done  well  ;  but,"  he  added,  "  what  I 
did  was  the  result  of  the  education  you  gave  me." 

As  this  was  certainly  the  best  answer  Chiang-Ho  could 
have  given,  and  as  the  old  emperor  was  a  man  of  consid- 
erable wit,  all  was  forgiven  and  forgotten. 

At  last  accounts  Kiang  was  alive  and  well.  He  has 
again  four  hundred  wives,  ten  thousand  elephants,  a  thou- 
sand white  eunuchs,  and  a  multitude  of  black  servants. 


with  other  incumbrances,  too  many  to  be  mentioned, 
while  Chiang-Ho — well,  Chiang-Ho  has  a  very  similar 
establishment.  The  country  is  still  in  a  state  of  uncivili- 
zation,  and,  truth  to  tell,  they  like  it  much  better  than 
Chiang-Ho's  reforms. 


the  kitchen, 


Frank. 

((  I  IZZIE,"  said  the   mistress,  coming  into  t 

"I  shall  have  to  let  you  go  after  this  week." 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Fijjits,"  answered  the  cook,  "  I  am  sorry. 
Haven't  I  given  satisfaction  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  you  have  been  perfect." 

"And  I've  worked  for  you  a  whole  year." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  am  sorry  to  let  you  go." 

"  But  I  don't  see  why  you  do.  If  you  had  any  com- 
plaint " 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you  the  truth,  Lizzie.  Everywhere 
I  go  I  hear  all  the  other  women  talking  about  the  trouble 
they  have  keeping  a  cook,  and  as  things  are  I  simply  have 
no  opportunity  to  join  in  the  conversation.  And  as  a  con- 
sequence I  find  it  is  interfering  with  my  social  career." 


(( 


Nothin'  Doin'. 

li/AXT  'ny  ice  ?" 


Is  't  fresh  ?" 
■'  Yep." 

"Bring  me  up  a  two -cent 
chunk." 

"  Where  're  ye  at  ?" 
"  Six  floor,  back." 
"  Ghee  awp  !" 

Blackmailers'  Rate-card. 

QRDINARY  display  scandal, 
^^    one  omission,  $500  per  inch. 

Ordinary  display  scandal,  two 
omissions,  $800  per  inch. 

Specially  spicy  corespondent 
material,  one  omission  from  top 
ot  column,  next  pure  reading- 
matter,  $i,cxx5  per  inch. 

Same,  omitted  in  larger  type, 
$1  500  per  inch. 

Special  discounts  given  to 
members  of  the  "  400  "  who  are 
regular  advertisers. 

Our  yearly  contract  for  omis- 
sion of  all  scandal  with  refer- 
ence to  any  individual  is  safe 
and  attractive. 

Our  Mann  will  call. 

s.  W.  G 

The  Times. 

jjVi/AIT  a  minute." 
''      "  Ain't  got  time." 
"  Where  you  goin'  ?" 
"  Nowhere  in  particular." 


THE  MONOPOLIST. 
"  Me  man,  we've  broken  down.     What  would  you  charge  to  haul  us  to  the  village  '" 
"  How  much  yeh  got  ?" 


LIKE  a  woman  who  is  ' '  all 


I'll  eat  her  cooking. 


< 

S    1! 


o  o 

O    u 


t-H       *- 


< 

O 

J 


-    >a 


3 

^  U    C    3 

.  S  =  t. 


;-a3  s 
-  i-H  ea  *j 


oT  o  - 

a  >.  a  >. 

—   a  —  ca 

u  a  o  3 

z  o  z  o 


One  by  Old  Hank  Calkins. 

II  IWJAOW,  I  mind  th'  time,"  drawled  old  Hank  Call<ins 
from  the  counter  as  he  applied  a  match  to  the 
sputtering  bowl  of  his  pipe  and  stared  at  the  smooth- 
shaven  face  and  cropped  mustache  of  the  stranger  through 
the  smoke  ;  "  I  mind  th'  time,  three  year  ago  come  June, 
when  I  had  a  purty  good  gardin,  tli'  seed  all  planted  in 
th'  moon.  I  was  grubbin'  th"  cabbage  thet  day  when  I 
lost  my  watch — one  o'  th'  most  ackret  time-pieces.  'Mandy 
an"  me  hunted  nigh  all  th'  mornin',  but  next  day  I  had  to 
swap  a  ca'f  with  Deacon  Vedder  fer  another  watch. 

"Wa-al,  it  run  along  till  about  Thanksgivin',  when 
th'  ole  woman  says  fer  me  to  git  a  head  o'  cabbage  fer  th' 
b'iled  dinner.  I  brought  up  out'n  the  cellar  a  big  head 
an'  some  cider  " 

"  Yer  alwus  do  when  ye  go  down  celler,"  interrupted 
Deacon  Vedder  maliciously. 

"  You  shut  up  an'  let  me  alone  !  As  I  was  a-sayin',  I 
brought  up  th'  head  an'  was  cuttin'  it  in  ha'f  when  my 
knife  struck  somethin'  hard.  Cuttin'  keerful,  I  opened  it, 
an'  out  dropped  my  watch  from  th'  centre  o'  thet  cab- 
bage an'  still  a-runnin'  an'  only  two  minutes  behind  th' 
right  time." 

"  But  how  in  the  name  of  Time  could  it  be  ruining," 
queried  the  drummer,  "  after  being  lost  five  months .'" 

"  Wa-al,  ye  see,"  answered  Hank,  "  it  was  one  o'  them 
curly  heads  o'  cabbage,  an'  th"  leaves  had  kept  growin'  r<:i 
twistin'  around  th'  stem  an'  windin'  thet  watch  till  she 
was  most  wound  tight  when  I  picked  it  up,  by  hen  !" 

DON  CAMERON  SHAFER. 

Mistake. 

First  spirit — "  Well,  how  do  you  like  the  place  ?  I 
used  to  be  a  reporter  when  on  earth,  and  " 

Second  spirit — "  Gosh  !  then  I've  come  to  the  wrong 
place.     I  thought  this  was  heaven." 


Would  It  Be  Fair  To  Tell  ? 

I  LOOK  into  my  neighbor's  eyes 

And  twist  a  smile  tliat's  strangely  grim, 

I'm  thinking,  Would  he  feel  surprise 
To  know  just  what  I  think  of  him? 

I  gaze  into  my  dear  friend's  face, 

And  with  this  thought  my  soul  is  stirred  : 

What  revolution  would  take  place 

Were  I  to  tell  her  what  I've  heard? 

I  stare  into  my  mirror  there 

With  eyes  that  hunger  to  be  true. 
And  say  aloud,  Would  it  be  fair 

To  mention  all  I  know  oi  you  ? 

U;RANA  W.  SHELDON. 

The  Outlook. 

<.  t  r\R-  THIRDLEIGH'S  sermon  last  Sunday  night 
was  a  great  improvement  over  the  ones  he  ha=; 
been  preaching  lately.  I  am  so  glad  he  kept  the 
note  ot  pessimism  out  of  it.  He  has  seemed  for  the 
past  year  or  so  to  take  such  a  dismal  view  of  things." 
"  Yes  ;  it  was  a  welcome  relief  to  hear  him  say 
the  world  was  growing  better.  Did  you  know  the 
Ijustees  had  voted  to  raise  his  salary  twenty  per 
cent.?" 


Less  than  He  Oftered. 

((  I  WILL  go  to  the  end  of  the  world  for  you,"  he  de- 
clared. "  if  that  is  necessary  to  prove  my  devotion — 
to  manifest  the  manner  in  which  you  have  enslaved  my 
heart." 

In  the  stillness  that  ensued  the  clock  in  the  librai-y 
laboriously  chimed  the  hour  of  twelve.  The  beauteous 
maiden  who  sat  near  the  young  man  raised  a  lily-white 
hand  to  conceal  a  yawn  and  murmured, 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  go  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
Harold.  That  would  be  entirely  too  far.  But  there  is  a 
little  journey  I  wish  you  would  undertake." 

"  What  is  it  ?  Tell  it  to  me  and  I  will  fare  forth  like 
a  knight  of  old  upon  the  quest.  Tell  me,  fair  one,  and 
I  will  take  up  the  pilgrimage  this  moment." 

"  It  isn't  so  serious  as  all  that,"  she  replied  sleepily. 
"I  simply  wondered  if  you  wouldn't  go  home.  Papa 
objects  to  my  keeping  such  late  hours.  ' 

A  Confession. 

(I  ii/OULD  you  mind  telling  the  court,"  asked  the  exam- 
ining attorney,  "  where  and  when  you  laid  the 
foundations  of  this  structure  of  graft  that  has  overshad- 
owed your  life  ?" 

The  once  famous  man  who  had  been  mercilessly  ex- 
posed and  must  now  pay  the  penalty  for  his  misdeeds 
lifted  his  haggard  face  and  replied, 

"  I  will  tell  you,  in  the  hope  that  it  may  serve  as  a 
warning  to  the  youngs — to  the  very  young.  My  first  step 
in  graft  was  when,  as  a  boy  of  six  or  seven,  I  compelleil 
my  big  sister's  admirers  to  bribe  me  to  leave  the  parlor 
by  giving  me  pennies  and  nickels  and  dimes.  Step  by 
step  I  can  trace  my  downfall  from  that  evil  time." 


(I  pvO  you  dote  on  your  kin-folks  ?" 
"  Relatively  speaking,  no." 


MORE  TH.A.N   HE  COUNTED   ON. 
I.  Sid — "  Hold  de  parashutUe  over  yerself,  Mame  ;   I 
de  rain." 


don't  mind 


Foibles  of  Literary  Men. 

I^EATS  liked  red  pepper  on  his  toast.  It  was  the  only 
sure  way  to  keep  it  warm. 

Disraeli  wore  corsets,  believing  that  they  would  enable 
him^to  cut  quite  a  figure  in  the  world. 

Joaquin  Miller  nailed  all  his  chairs  to  the  wall.  He  was 
afraid  some  of  his  visitors  might  take  a  seat. 

Ernest  Renan  wore  his  finger-nails  abnormally  long, 
having  a  wholesome  dread  of  Parisian  manicures. 

Edgar  Allan  Poe  slept  with  his  cat,  thriftily  believing 
that  it  always  paid  to  have  his  me.vs  within  reach. 

Zola  would  pass  whole  weeks  in  the  belief  that  he  was 
an  idiot.  Thousands  of  his  readers  have  had  the  same 
idea  for  whole  years. 

Robert  Browning  never  could  sit  still  while  writing. 
He  had  to  move  around  to  keep  from  falling  asleep  over 
his  work,  like  the  rest  of  us. 

Dickens  was  fond  of  wearing  flasliy  jewelry  and  showy 
waistcoats.  This  first  attracted  attention  to  the  fact  that 
he  was  a  dandy  novelist. 

Bjornson  kept  his  pockets  full  of  the  seeds  of  trees, 
scattering  handfuls  broadcast  in  his  daily  walks.  That  is 
why  his  plays  and  books  are  so  full  of  shady  characters. 

Thackeray  used  to  lift  his  hat  whenever  he  passed  the 
house  in  which  he  wrote  "Vanity  Fair."  It  is  supposed 
that  he  did  this  to  relieve  the  pressure  on  his  hat-band. 

Count  Tolstoi,  though  very  rich,  wears  the  cheapest 
clothes  he  can  buy.  That  is  why  they  call  him  the  sage 
of  the  Russian  revolution.  It  is  a  sort  of  allusion  to  Rus- 
sell Sage. 

Has  Nothing  Left. 
4t  pvO  YOU  leave  your  valuables  in  the  hotel  safe  when 
you  go  to  a  summer  resort  ?" 
"  Only  when  I  leave." 


MORE  THAN   HE  COUNTED   ON. 
2.  Sid — "  I  said  I  didn't  mind  de  rain,  but  I  wuzn't  thinkin'  about 
waterspouts." 


Finnigin  Filosofizes, 

COME  marriages,  supposed  t'  be  ma-ade  in  hevvin,  ray- 
suit  in  a  divvle  av  a  mess. 

Ut's  none  av  wan-half  av  th'  wur-rld's  bizness,  begor- 
rah  I  how  th'  other  half  lives. 

Ut's  a  quare  thing,  ut  is,  thot  th'  fewer  frosts  a  public 
shpaker  incounters  th'  more  ice  he  cuts. 

Minny  a  wan  av  th'  modhern  nowles  thrills  ye  wid  th' 
reeliza-ation  av  th'  author's  nade  av  rest  at  th'  toime  he 
wuz  writin'  ut. 

Shakespeare  wuzn't  in  th'  sa-ame  class  wid  pla-ay- 
writhers  av  th"  prisint,  an*  ut's  a  dirthy  sha-ame  he  isn't 
aloive  t'  be  congratula-ted  on  the  fact. 

Payrints  wid  no  more  sinse  than  t'  lave  their  childher 
t'  be  dhragged  up  be  hoired  nur-rses  is  doin'  th'  poor  little 
gossoons  a  grea-at  favor  be  riddin'  thim  av  sich  compan- 
ions an'  ixamples  as  sich  fool  payrints  wud  be  till  thim. 

Woman  is  th'  bist  or  th'  wur-rst,  th'  puniest  or  th' 
ugliest,  creature  in  th'  wur-rld. 

Afther  a  while  th'  Unoited  Shta-ates  sinate  will  begin 
t'  ha-ate  utsilf,  an'  thin  th'  sintimint  will  be  unanimous. 

Th'  pessimist  thot's  thried  iverything  ilse  an'  tired  av  ut 
might  thry  bein'  a  man  a  while,  jisht  fer  variety's  sa-ake. 

Manny  a  woman  boasts  av  her  husband's  fr-reedom 
fr-rum  timpta-ation  thot  wuddent  boast  if  she  knowed 
how  he  got  's  immunity. 

Thot  man  who  said,  "  I  said  in  me  ha-aste  all  min 
ar-re  loirs,"  he  needn't  hov  bin  in  sich  a  shplutter  in 
ordher  t'  ka-ape  fr-rum  cha-angin  's  verdict. 

STRICKLAND  W.  GILLILAN. 

The  Mosquito. 

IVeeJts — "  What  is  good  for  a  mosquito-bite  ?" 
Siici — "  Most   any  sort  of  human   flesh,   I   believe,  is 
considered  good." 

Don't  Worry,  My  Brother— Don't. 

DON'T  worry,  my  brother  ;    don't  threaten  to  blow 
Your  brains  out  because  you  a  multitude  owe — 
Because  tradesman's  duns  you're  receiving  each  day 
And  can't  reckon  when  you'll  be  able  to  pay. 

Don't  worry  ;  brace  up  !     Don't  despair  ;  be  a  man  ! 
There  's  in  such  straits  as  yours  but  one  sensible  plan, 
And  that's  not  to  worry.     One  's  foolish  who  frets. 
Just  borrow  some  money  and  pay  off  your  debts. 

ROV  FARRELL  GREENE. 


The  Old  Fogy. 

(I  I  SUPPOSE,"  says  the  modern  actor  to  the  stately 
'  old  relic  of  the  palmy  days  of  the  stage,  "  that 
you  got  a  few  press-notices  when  you  trod  the  boards  ? 
I  am  mentioned  fifteen  times  in  the  papers  this  morn- 
ing. There  are  four  notices  of  my  new  automobiles, 
three  items  about  my  dog  being  lost,  five  stories 
about  what  I  like  for  dinner,  and  two  mentions  of 
my  taste  in  cravats,  with  one  paragraph  about  my 
trunks  being  lost  on  the  train." 

"Yes,"  sighs  the  old-fashioned,  out-of-date 
actor  ;  "  I  got  a  few  notices — but  they  were  all 
based  on  the  impression  that  I  had  played  well  nr,y 
part." 


"Poor  Little  Nina" 

By  Walter  Beverley  Crane 


my    dear,"  said  Mr.  "Willie" 
'  allow    me    to    present     Lord 


CONSTANCE, 
Rock  wood, 
Heron." 
"  I  am  afraid — I  really  am  awfully  afraid 
— that  I   am   intruding  here,"  said   his   lord- 
ship. 

"  Why,  no,"  replied  Mrs.  "  Willie"  Rock- 
wood,  with  a  slight  delay  on  each  word  to  emphasize  her 
negative.  "  You  can  help  me  choose  a  new  automobile 
coat.     Do  you  like  that  ?" 

She  pointed  to  a  swagger  garment  floating  up  and 
down  Mrs.  Gosburn's  Fifth  avenue  shop's  show-room  on  a 
most  elegant  young  person,  who  had  risen  in  life  by  the 
remarkable  fall  in  her  back. 

"  'Why  do  they  call  me  a  Gibson  girl?'"  hummed 
Mrs.  "  Willie's"  husband,  while  Lord,  Heron  exclaimed, 
"  Charming  !  Charming  !  Upon  my  word,  exceedingly 
smart  and  pretty  !" 

"Which  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Mrs.  "Willie."  His 
lordship  was  delighted.  These  little  American  women 
are  so  quick  and  clever,  don't  you  know  ;  they  have  so 
much  self-possession  and  so  much  spirit  without  being 
vulgar  or  fast.     His  heart  warmed  to  her. 


THE   IRONY   OF   FATE. 

Zoo  PARROT — "  Hey  !  don't  you  know  this  is  the  glorious  Fourth,  when 
you  ought  to  be  soaring  over  these  United  States,  screeching  '  Liberty  and 
Freedom '?     Get  busy  !" 

Emblem  OF  LIBERTY  (sadly) — "And  here  I  am  in  a  cage!  Wouldn't 
ihat  make  you  sore?" 


"  It  must  be  a  strange  life,"  he  observed,  lowering  his 
voice  ;  "  this  sweeping  up  and  down  and  bending  of  the 
body  under  other  people's  clothing." 

"Why,  it  must  be  delightful  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  "Wil- 
lie." "  Only  fancy  being  always  sure  to  have  on  the  very 
latest  thing  !" 

"Isn't  it  time  for  little  Nina's  medicine  ?"  demanded 
Mr.  "Willie."  • 

"  Yes,  dear  ;  do  hurry  home,"  pleaded  his  wife. 
"  Shall   I   have  the    pleasure   of  your  company.  Lord 
Heron,    or   do   you    elect   to   remain    among   the  —  er — 
clothes  ?" 

"  I  think,  if  Mrs.  Rockwood  will  allow  me,  I  will  stop 
and  put  her  into  her  car."  The  lady  smiled,  and  her 
husband  strode  off  toward  the  Waldorf.  Having  finally 
decided  on  the  touring  coat  and  entered  her  waiting  car, 
Mrs.  "  Willie "  extended  Lord  Heron  some  beautifully- 
gloved  fingers  through  the  window  of  her  luxurious  limou- 
sine. 

"Would  you  be  so  good  as  to  tell  me  the  time? 
Thank  you  so  much.  How  late  !  Oh,  dear  !  I  hope 
Willie  will  give  little  Nina  her  medicine  just  on  the  hour. 
So  good  of  you  to  have  helped  with  the  coat,  Lord  Heron. 
I've  a  '  bridge  '  luncheon,  and  am  awfully 
late.  Tell  Frangois  to  hurry,  please.  Do 
call  soon  !"  And  Mrs.  "Willie"  flew  up 
the  avenue. 

"  Well,  I  hope  little  Nina  gets  her 
medicine,"  mused  his  lordship.  He  was  a 
tender-hearted  Briton.  He  thought  of 
Tiny  Tim  and  little  Paul  Dombey.  He 
fancied  the  sick  child  lying  like  a  faded 
flower  on  her  little  bed  and  lisping  bless- 
ings on  her  mother,  now  on  her  way  to 
keep  a  "bridge"  engagement.  "Ameri- 
can women  have  even  less  feeling  than 
Parisian,"  he  found  himself  saying.  "  Un- 
mothered  mother  !  heartless,  pitiless  !"  he 
repeated  to  himself. 

Yet,  on  the  following  day  after  their  first 
meeting,  he  called  at  the  Waldorf.  Though 
forced  to  disapprove  of  an  attractive  wo- 
man, he  could  not  resist  his  inclination 
for  her  society.  The  door  to  their  apart- 
ments was  opened  by  a  French  maid,  who 
was  crying  in  a  most  becoming  fashion. 
Lord  Heron's  imagination  was  aroused. 
'  Is  it  little  Nina?"  he  gasped,  letting  the 
monocle  drop  out  of  his  eye. 

She  nodded  despairingly.  She  could 
not  speak  for  weeping.  She  led  the  way 
into  the  drawing-room.  The  sight  which 
his  lordship  beheld  was  indeed  surprising. 
On  the  Louis  XVI.  table  was  little  Nina's 
medicine,  and  by  it  the  most  delicate 
of  sweetbreads    untasted.     Mr.    "  Willie " 


burst   out  Mr. 


Rockwood,  his  vacuous  lace  seared  with  deep  emotion, 
was  bending  like  a  "  broken  "  breech-loader  over  a  luxuri- 
ous divan.  Opposite  to  him  was  his  wife,  who  had  sunk 
upon  the  floor,  and  with  tears  coursing  down  her  cheeks 
was  soothing  the  little  suflferer.  The  little  sufferer  !  Be- 
tween husband  and  wife,  propped  by  the  softest  pillows, 
draped  by  the  costliest  rugs  and  shawls,  important  and 
deeply  conscious  of  her  importance,  reclined  the  queen  of 
French  bull-dogs.     "  Willie  "  Rockwood  came  forward. 

"  I  hoped  you  were  the  doctor,  Heron.  I  say,  old  man, 
have  you  any  acquaintance  with  the  maladies  of  dogs  ?" 

"  None  whatever,"  tartly  replied  his  lordship  ;  "  and 
indeed,  Mr.  Rockwood,  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  can 
interest  yourself  in  a  dog  at  such  a  moment." 

"  At  such  a  moment  ?"  repeated  Mr.  "  Willie." 

"When   little   Nina" began   Lord   Heron,  visibly 

affected. 

"Why,  my  lord,  this  is    little    Nina, 
Rockwood. 

Lord  Heron  screwed  his  glass  in  his 
eye.  "I  think,"  he  said,  "perhaps  I'd 
better  go." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  "Willie";  "I  am 
afraid  mv  w-ife  is  not  equal  to  conversa- 
tion at  present.  I  trust  that  we  shall 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  under 
happier  circumstances." 

"  Ah,  thanks !  I'm  sure,  ah — thanks ! ' 
murmured  the  visitor,  and  he  glanced 
again  at  young  Mrs.  "  Willie."  She 
was  wholly  unconscious  of  his  presence. 
She  was  holding  the  limp  right  paw  ot 
the  patient  in  her  hand  and  was  bathing 
it  with  tears.  Lord  Heron  departed 
rather  abruptly.  The  next  morning,  as 
he  was  toying  with  his  breakfast  at  the 
St.  Regis,  a  note  was  brought  to  him  : 

"  Dear  Lord  Heron — How  you  must 
have  wondered  at  my  strange  conduct 
yesterday  !  I  was  in  the  deepest  despair 
and  quite  unfit  to  receive  anybody.  To- 
day all  looks  bright  again.  The  dear 
doctor  came  soon  after  you  left.  He  is 
reckoned  the  cleverest  man  in  the  pro- 
fession, and  attends  the  dogs  of  the 
smartest  people  in  this  countiy  and 
Europe.  He  says  that  our  dear  little 
Nina  has  no  serious  malady,  but  recom- 
mends a  change  of  diet,  and  a  change  of 
climate  as  well.  So  we  start  at  once  for 
the  Jamestown  exhibition.  I  should 
prefer  the  south  of  England  or  the  Isle 
of  Wight  for  Nina,  as  the  change  would 
be  far  more  radical,  but  the  doctor  says 
steamer  travel  is  so  irritating  to  dogs  in 
Nina's  delicate  condition.  Will  you  do 
me  a  great  favor  and  send  me  some 
of  Angel's  flea-powder  when  you  reach 
London  ?  I  would  not  trouble  you, 
but  Angel's  is  invaluable  and  so  difficult 
to  get  in  this  country.     Mr.  Rockwood 


is  in  despair  at  having  to  leave  town  so  suddenly.  He 
wanted  to  put  you  up  at  all  the  clubs.  May  I  not  depend 
upon  you  for  the  powder  ? 

"Very  cordially  yours, 

"  Constance  Rockwood." 

"  I    buy  flea-powder  for  that  d d   cur  !"  cried   his 

lordship.  "Well,  I  suppose  I  shall,"  he  added  after  a 
long  pause.  "  '  Poor  little  Nina  !'  "  and  he  burst  out 
laughing,  causing  the  other  guests  of  the  St.  Regis  much 
polite  and  well-bred  surprise  by  his  noisy  exhibition  of 
mirth. 

Self-protection. 

<«  VOU  say  your  wife  is  a  poor  cook  .''" 
"  The  worst  ever." 

"  And  yet  you  say  that  you  eat  all  of  everything  she  pre- 
pares for  the  table.    How  can  you  do  that  if  she  can't  cook?" 

"  Great  earth,  man  !  if  I  don't  she  will  use  up  the 
scraps  in  some  of  those  how-to-utilize-left-over  dishes,  and 
that  will  be  my  finish." 


1 


NOT   .\   BIT   STYLISH. 
Marie — ■•  Does  Maijoiie  smoke?" 
Ethyl — ••  Heavens,  no!     She  "s  hopelessly  old-fashioned." 


A   Poetical   Reiteration 


Tf 


•HERE  was  a  young  man  of  St.  Paul 
Who  went  to  a  fancy-dress  ball  ; 
But  it  wasn't  much  fun, 
For  he  went  as  a  bun, 
And  the  dog  ate  him  up  in  the  hall." 

According  to  Wordsworth  : 

The  dance  was  just  commencing,  the  guests  were  on  their  feet, 
I  heard  a  voice  exclaiming,  "  Eat,  little  doggie,  eat"; 
And,  looking  o'er  the  banisters  to  share  the  speaker's  fun, 
I  saw  a  dog  devouring  what  appeared  to  be  a  bun. 
'Twas  little  Charlie  Jolinson,  who  came  from  old  St.  Paul. 
He  was  paralyzed  with  fright  to  see  the  canine  in  the  hall, 
And  in  his  choice  of  fancy  dress,  I'm  sure  that  you'll  agree, 
He  might  have  done  much  better — but  he  didn't  live  to  see. 

Kipling's  version  : 

"  'E's  a  doughnut,  'e's  a  cookie,  'e's  a  bun, 

'E's  a  lollypop  all  bent  on  masquerade" — 
But  the  purp  's  the  one  as  collars  all  the  fiin, 
And  the  victim  'asn't  time  to  be  afraid. 
So  'ere  's  to  you,  little  fellow,  from  the  city  of  St.  Paul. 
It's  a  lovely  place  to  die  in,  is  a  cold  and  draughty  'all — 
But  it's  beautiful  to  think  that,  as  you're  traveling  incog. 
Your  friends  will  never  realize  'ow  well  you  fed  the  dc". 

Burns  would  have  written  thus  : 

Youths  wha  hae  in  fancy  dress 
Sought  to  capture  happiness, 
Hearken  to  the  sad  distress 
Whilk  befell  St.  Paul 

When  her  bravest,  brightest  sen. 
Merely  for  a  piece  of  fun, 
Dressed  himself  up  like  a  bun — 
Started  for  the  ball. 

Wha  would  show  a  trace  o'  fear, 
When,  as  he  was  drawing  near, 
Growling  smote  upon  his  ear 
Frae  within  the  hall. 

But  the  dog  wi'  a'  dispatcli 
Swallowed  doon  his  shrinking  ca'cl; 
Wha,  when  someone  lit  a  match, 
Wasna  there  at  all. 

M  iiaulay's  idea  : 
Young  Jones  of  St.  Paul  City,  to  his  best  girl  he  swore, 
That  he'd  attend  the  masquerade  to  dance  with  her  once  more  ; 

Most  mightily  he  swore  it  and  thought  it  would  be  fun, 
And  bade  his  sisters  spare  no  pains,  to  use  their  money  and  their 
brains, 
And  dress  him  like  a  bun. 

Oh,  Rover,  gentle  Rover,  to  whom  the  people  trust, 
The  night  is  nearly  over  and  Jones's  day  is  bust  ; 

For  when  his  lady  searched  the  hall  to  see  where  he  could  be, 
The  doggie  growled  :  "  He  will  abide  quite  peacefully  on  my 
inside  ^ 

And  watch  the  door  with  me." 

Scott  might  have  said  : 

Breathes  there  a  dog  with  soul  so  dead, 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 

"This  is  my  own,  my  daily  bun  "? 
Who  has  not  frolicked  in  the  hall 
At  prospect  of  a  fancy  ball, 

With  no  restraint  to  spoil  the  funi 


One  such  there  was,  and,  mark  him  well, 

He  did  a  thing  I  hate  to  tell. 

For  in  the  height  of  ple.asure's  hour, 

He  did  untliinkingly  devour 

A  youth,  who  came  in  a  disguise 

That  might  have  puzzled  wiser  eyes — 

A  bun — and  yet,  despite  his  wealth, 

The  doggie  took  him  to  himself, 

And  comrades  wired  the  story  all 

Back  to  his  people  in  St.  Paul. 

Byron  would  have  treated  the  subject  as  folic  ms  : 

There  was  a  sound  of  music  in  the  air. 

St.  Paul  society  had  gathered  tlien 
Her  cream,  in  fancy  dress,  and  dazzling  fair 

Glittered  the  costumes  of  the  maids  and  men. 
But,  hark  !  a  fearsome  rumbling  greets  the  ear. 

Filling  the  heart  with  terror  to  its  core. 
"  Did  ye  not  hear  it?"      "Yes,  I  greatly  fear 

'Tis  Rover  growling  in  the  corridor." 

Within  a  windowed  niche  of  that  high  hall 

A  youth  reclined,  made  up  to  represent 
An  ordinary  Bath  bun — that  was  all — 

He  had  not  counted  upon  Rover's  scent ; 
He  knew  precisely  what  that  growling  meant — 

A  shriek,  a  slip,  alas,  a  headlong  fall ! 
And  Rover,  catching  him  in  his  descent 

oScattered  his  remnants  broadcast  through  the  hall 

REGINALD    :;.   SMELLIE. 

An  Orderly  Meeting. 

r\URING  a  political  campaign  in  Delaw?re  a  speaker 
whose  repertoire  consists  for  the  most  part  of  jokes 
vihich  in  other  sections  of  the  country  are  wont  to  set 
audiences  in  a  roar,  was  assigned  to  address  a  meeting  of 
Newcastle  county  farmers.  The  night  of  the  meeting  was 
dark  and  stormy.  Several  hundred  solemn-visaged  farm- 
ers in  high-top  '  ^ots  tramped  into  the  hall  and  took  their 
seats.  The  chairman  of  the  meeting  was  the  same  sort  of 
individual,  to  whom  a  jest  of  any  kind  made  no  appeal. 
For  nearly  an  hour  the  speaker  worked  with  his  audience. 
Joke  after  joke  fell  harmlessly,  eliciting  not  even  so  much 
as  a  ripple.  But  finally  his  efforts  were  rewarded.  An 
individual  seated  in  one  of  the  front  benches  emitted  a  loud 
guffaw.  It  broke  rudely  upon  the  stillness  and  the  audi- 
ence craned  their  necks  to  get  a  look  at  the  individual 
whose  appreciation  had  been  manifested  so  audibly.  The 
chairman  rose  to  the  situation.  Jumping  from  his  chair 
he  strode  quickly  toward  the  footlights.  "  We  must  have 
order  !"  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice.  "  Any  one  interrupting 
this  meeting  will  be  asked  to  leave  the  hall."  It  may  be 
imagined  that  after  this  disheartening  reception  the 
speaker  soon  brought  his  address  to  a  close,      j.  d.  miller. 


asked 


As  It  Seemed  to  Pa. 

((  UOW'D  you    like  to   be    my  brother-in-law  ?" 

*  *     litde  Albert. 

"  I  would  like  it  very  much,"  the  young  man  answered. 
"  Do  you  think  there  is  any  hope  for  me  ?" 

"  Well,  I  dunno.  Sis  and  ma  seem  to  think  so,  but  [  a 
says  you're  hopeless." 


Di^sby  and   a   Button 


By  Morris  Wade 


WHERE  will  I  find  buttons  ?" 
Digsby  asked  the  question  with  all 
the  respect  the  size  and  good  looks  of 
the  floor-walker  demanded  from  such 
a  small  and  homely  man  as  Digsby 
was. 

"  Which  ?"  replied  the  floor-walker, 
looking  down  on  the  little  man  in  a  patronizing  way. 

"  Buttons.     Where  will  I  find  buttons  ?" 

•'  In  the  annex." 

«•  And  where  is  the  annex  ?" 

"  Third  aisle  to  the  left,  down  to  end  of  aisle  and  turn 
to  left.     Annex  right  ahead  of  you  through  the  arch." 

Digsby  tried  to  follow  these  directions  but  found  him- 
self so  balled  up  that  he  had  to  say  to  a  second  floor- 
walker, bigger,  better-looking  and  more  toplofty  than  the 
first, 

"  Where  will  I  find  buttons,  please  ?" 

"  Buttons  ?" 

"  Yes — buttons." 

"  Second  aisle — left !  What  is  it,  lady  ?  Small-wares  ? 
Fourth  right." 

A  cash-girl,  with  a  huge  wad  of  white  gum  momen- 
tarily at  anchor  between  her  teeth  and  displayed  to  the 
public,  finally  led  Digsby  to  the  button-counter,  where  he 
took  a  small  steel  button  from  the  vest  pocket  into  which 
his  wife  had  slipped  it  that  morning.  Showing 
it  to  a  young  woman  behind  the  counter  with  a 
pompadour  nine  inches  high  and  a  dog-collar  of 
pearls  and  diamonds,  he  asked, 

"  Have  you  any  buttons  like  this  ?" 

She  took  the  button  into  her  jeweled  hand, 
looked  at  it  and  handed  it  back  to  Digsby  saying, 

"  Third  lady  down  the  aisle." 

The  "  third  lady  down  the  aisle "  extended 
her  hand  languidly  for  the  button  and  said, 

"  Other  end  of  the  counter —the  lady  in  the 
red-silk  waist  and  gold  chain." 

"  I  was  told  I  would  find  buttons  like  this 
here,"  said  Digsby  as  he  glanced  at  a  near-by 
clock  and  realized  that  he  had  but  fifteen  minutes 
in  which  to  make  his  purchase  and  get  his  train. 

"  You  was  told  wrong  then.  We  been  re- 
arranging stock,  an'  them  kind  o'  buttons  is  up 
at  the  other  end  o'  the  counter  now." 

Then  her  voice  cut  the  air  like  a  two-edged 
blade  as  she  shrieked, 

'•  Mame  !  Oh,  Mame  !  The  gent  comin' 
wants  some  o'  them  smallish  steel  buttons  we 
moved  up  to  your  end  o'  the  counter  yesterday."' 

"  I  got  a  customer  !"  screamed  Mame. 

"  Well,  git  some  o*  the  others  to  git  a  move 
on  'em  then  !     He  wants  to  git  his  train  ! " 

Mame  took  the  button,  eyed  it  an  instant,  and 
said, 

"  You  sure  you  got  that  button  here  ?" 


"  My  wife  said  she  got  it  here." 

"  Here,  Sadie  !  See  if  you  can  find  a  button  like  this 
for  this  gent.  Says  he  got  it  here,  but  I  don't  remember 
any  such  buttons  !" 

Sadie  took  the  button. 

"  When  did  she  get  it  here  ?"  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know  just  when.  I  only  know  that  she  said 
she  got  it  here." 

"  Not  recent  I  don't  think.  Kitty  !  you  remember  of 
us  having  any  buttons  like  this  ?" 

She  gave  the  button  a  fling  over  the  heads  of  the  three 
girls  between  herself  and  Kitty,  who  failed  to  catch  the 
button. 

"  Whyn't  you  ketch  it,  gump  ?" 

"  I  ain't  no  base-ballist  to  ketch  things  on  the  fly  !  I 
dunno  where  it  went." 

"  It  can't  be  far.  Look  for  it,"  said  Sadie  with  calno 
indifference. 

"  I  want  to  get  a' train  and  " 

"  Scurry  around  and  find  that  button.  Kit.  The  gen- 
tleman wants  to  git  a  train  !" 

Kitty  finally  found  the  button. 

"  I  sold  the  last  button  we  had  down  here  like  this  just 
a  few  minutes  ago,  but  there  may  be  some  in  the  stock- 
room.    I'll  see." 

Then  she   beat  a  fierce  tattoo  on  the  counter  with  the 


MUSICAL  NOTE. 
Professor  Fiddlestix  has  a  new  string  band. 


end  of  her  lead-pencil,  and  her  voice  had  the  penetrating 
power  of  a  fog-horn  as  she  shouted, 

"  Mister  Gray  !  Mister  Gray  !  Mister  Gray  !  Here 
you.  Cash  !  Go  and  find  Mister  Gray  and  tell  him  I  want 
him  !" 

Digsby  lost  his  train  while  waiting  for  "  Mister  Gray," 
who  was  head  of  that  department.     To  him  said  Kitty, 

"  Will  you  send  some  one  up  to  the  stock-room  and 
see  if  we  have  any  more  buttons  like  this  ?  Think  we 
have.     The  gentleman  is  in  a  hurry." 

Fifteen  minutes  pass  and  the  next  train  will  leave  in 
fifteen  minutes  more. 

"  I  don't  think  that  I  can  wait  any  longer,"  said 
Digsby.     "  I  will  come  in  again  and  " 

"  There  she  comes  now.  Hurry  up,  here,  girl  !  Slow 
as  molasses  in  January.  They  got  any  buttons  like  that 
up  there  ?" 

"  No  ;  they  ain't." 

"  Well,  you  needn't  'a'  been  forever  an'  a  day  finding 
it  out  !" 

"  Let  me  have  the  sample  I  gave  you,"  said  Digsby, 
but  the  girl  did  not  produce  it. 

"  Whyn't  you  give  the  gentleman  his  sample  ?"  asked 
Kitty  icily. 

The  cash-girl  looked  embarrassed  and  then  tittered,  and 
thrusting  a  finger  into  her  mouth,  said, 

"  I  was  carryin'  it  in  my  mouth  and  I — I — well,  I  swal- 
lered  it  !" 

"  Ain't  you  turrible  !"  said  Kitty  with  a  grin,  although 
she  said  tartly, 

"  I'll  tell  the  floor-walker,  you  see  if  I  don't.  Sorry  I 
can't  give  you  your  button,  sir,  but" 

She  grinned  and  Digsby  fled,  saying, 

"  I'll  call  again — er — no — it's  of  no  consequence  !" 

Her  Little  Hint. 

"THE  full  moon  flooded  the  porch  with  shafts  of  steel-blue 
rays.  It  was  late,  but  he  showed  no  signs  of  de- 
parting. 

"  It  has  been  said,"  he  remarked  dreamily,  "  that  the 
moon  is  dead." 

"  Is  that  any  reason,"  she  inquired  with  a  yawn,  "  why 
we  should  sit  up  with  the  corpse  ?" 


Some  Curious  Effects  of  the  Boom  in  Ice  Prices. 

tWE  WENT  over  to  the  "  parlor  "  across  the  way  and 
called  for  a  "  brick  "  of  mixed,  and  put  down  the 
price  we  had  paid  always  before.  The  young  lady 
chirped,  "  Five  cents  more,  please."  We  asked  why  and 
wherefore.  "  Ice  has  gone  up,"  she  said.  Ah,  yes,  so. 
Ice  up  from  three  dollars  to  five  dollars  a  ton,  ice-cream 
from  thirty-five  to  forty  cents  a  quart.  Exactly.  ^This  led 
us  to  investigate.  We  found  the  following  facts — approx- 
imately, allowing  something,  of  course,  to  a  deep  inward 
activity  of  feeling  :  Our  beef  went  up  because  of  increased 
refrigeration  cost.  A  bunch  of  radishes  cost  two  cents 
more.  Oranges  jumped,  anti  all  kinds  of  fruits.  But  we 
did  not  see  just  why  kindling-wood  went  up  twenty-five 
cents  a  barrel.  Of  course  it  was  easy  after  we  found  out : 
it  cost  more  to  supply  the  kindling-splitter  with  ice-water. 
Then  bricks  went  up  forty  cents  a  thousand.  The  owner 
of  the  brick-yard  ran  the  ice-plant,  and  the  rise  in  bricks 
was  a  purely  sympathetic  movement— like  the  inflamma- 
tion of  the  eye  because  the  other  has  got  a  cinder  in  it. 
Then  we  discovered  that  a  corner  lot  we  wanted  had  gone 
up  one  hundred  dollars.  This  stumped  us  until  we 
learned  the  intimate  connection  between  this  corner  lot 
and  ice.  The  lot-owner,  it  seems,  had  got  shut  up  for 
three  hours  in  a  refrigerator,  and  contact  with  ice  had 
imbued  him  with  the  idea  that  everything  was  going  up. 
But  the  most  singular  effect  of  the  ice-boom  came  out  as 
follows  :  We  asked  for  an  increase  of  salary  and  got  the 
frosty  face,  the  glacial  glance,  and  the  icy  eye  all  in  a 
moment.  Then  we  realized  that  ice  was  up  and  it  was 
costing  more  to  congeal  employing  interiors,  leaving  just 
so  much  less  for  the  interiors  of  the  submerged  classes. 

A.    R.    B. 

Appropriate. 

I/OLB  and  Oates  were  rival  candidates  for  the  office  of 
governor  in  a  far  southern  state,  and  in  the  campaign 
"  cobs  "  and  "  oats  "  were  the  emblems  of  the  opposing 
factions.  During  this  time  Colonel  Jones,  a  prominent 
politician,  died,  and  on  his  coffin  was  laid  a  sheaf  of  wheat 
to  typify  the  ripe  old  age  to  which  he  had  arrived. 

"  How   appropriate  ! "  exclaimed  young  Mrs.  Snow  at 
the  funeral.     "  He  was  such  an  enthusiastic  Oates  man  !" 


The  Ideals  of  Genevieve  at  Seventeen  and  Thirty-two. 

IWHEN  Genevieve  was  seventeen  At  thirty-tivo  fair  Genevieve 
•  '      She  lived  in  dreams  ;  she  loved  to  plan  Forsook  the  type  of  early  days  ; 

Her  future  happiness,  when  she  The  seasons,  as  they  came  and  went, 

Should  meet  her  fate — her  ideal  man.  Had  taught  her  much  of  worldly  ways. 

She  pictured  him,  as  maidens  will,   '  She  chose  a  man  whose  bank-account 
A  perfect  lover,  strong  and  brave,  Was  fostered  by  a  plumliing-shop. 


With  wa^'y 


A  soulful 


A  man  who 
ne'er  forgot 


Why  heed  the 


Or  e'en  those 
vacant 
lots  on 


CHARLES  R.  BARNBS. 


Not 


m 


Baedeker 


By  Frank  Crane 


Dedicated  to  all  who  have  sweat  blood  over  Baedeker  abroad. 
The  asterisk  (*J  is  used  as  a  mark  of  commendation.     (M)  miles. 

NDIANA— Route  13 — From  Sawyer's  Bend 
to  Higgsville. 

From  Sawyer's  Bend  the  railway 
(best  seats  to  the  right)  runs  west,  pass- 
ing Barrett's  glue-works  and  Congress- 
man Master's  new  house,  to  the  right. 
We  soon  enter  Hickory  grove,  where 
Bill  Peters  whipped  Sam  Tope  last 
Fourth  of  July,  and  cross  Snake  creek.  Fine  view  of  John 
Angel's  farm  (the  stacks  on  the  left  are  the  hay  he  sold  to 
Sawyer.  Note  the  *  roan  filly  in  the  west  forty  ;  she 
made  a  mile  in  two-fifty  at  the  county  fair  ;  a  free  goer, 
but  not  an  extra  looker).  6  M. — Allison  —  Cooper  & 
Smith's  elevator  to  the  left  ot  the  station.  The  road  now 
passes  through  extensive  corn-fields.  To  the  left  of  a 
pond  we  see  Shake-rag  school-house,  and  a  little  beyond 
the  residence  of  Major  Harris  (the  new  wing  was  put  on 
the  major's  house  last  summer,  when  he  married  the 
widow  Crum).  Then  Beaseley's  place,  Brown's,  Pager's 
(do  not  swap  horses  with  Pager),  and  Bently's.     9  M. — 


THE  SUBM.-iiRINE  RACE. 

First  sea-horse — •'  Tlie  tortoise,  lobster,  and  horseshoe  crab  are 
abotit  to  start  for  the  hundred-vard  crawling  record." 

Secont)  sea-horse — "  Let 's  put  our  money  on  the  horseshoe  crab 
for  '  !-Jck.'  " 


Williams's  Siding — nothing  here  but  a  pile  of  ties.  The 
big  Cottonwood,  two  miles  south,  marks  the  best  swim- 
ming-hole on  Snake  creek  (leeches).  For  the  next  mile 
or  so  we  are  passing  Mrs.  McCarthy's  children  along  the 
road.  Tlie  train  makes  a  sharp  turn  to  the  left,  and  after 
passing  the  red  section-house  (McCarthy's)  we  enter 
(II  M.)  Higgsville. 

HIGGSVILLE. 
Railways — The  Big  Six  railway  station  is  to  the  west  of  the 
town.  Railway  restaurant.  Don't  eat  unless  you  want  gas- 
tritis. Kept  by  Dave  Eppler,  the  stingiest  white  man  in  the 
state  ;  also  by  his  wife,  who  is  stingier.  Chicago  and  Kalamazam 
station  four  blocks  from  Big  Six.  One  can  take  the  train  here 
for  St.  Louis  (and  he  cannot  do  it  any  too  soon).  No  restaurant, 
here,  but  across  the  street  is  Mrs.  Tooey's  shack,  where  one  can 
get  a  plate  of  cold  be4ns,  a  cup  of  coffee,  a  glass  of  milk,  or  a 
sandwich,  each  five  cents  ;  in  an  open,  sunny  situation,  but  un- 
sanitary. (If  Mrs.  Tooey  will  keep  the  cover  on  lier  rain-barrel  and 
scrub  her  floor  once  or  twice  a  year,  we  will  be  pleased  to  give 
her  a  star. 

Hotels — *  City  Hotel  :  New  brick  structure  on  Main  street  ; 
$2  a  day  ;  pension,  $5  a  week.  (Give  a  quarter  to  the  *  freckled 
waitress.)  St.  James  Hotel — Much  spoken  against;  same  rates. 
A  rambling  wooden  building  ;  say  your  prayers  before  you 
go  to  bed,  for  if  the  house  ever  takes  fire  you  will  never  get 
out.  Meechum  House — East  end  of  Main  street ;  Si  a  day, 
$3  a  week.  Guests  wishing  a  clean  place  on  the  towel 
must  get  up  early.  Mrs.  Marble's — .\  boarding-house  ;  two 
school-teachers  board  here,  also  Doc  Peters  and  three  rail- 
road men.  Bain's,  Carter's  and  Rollin's  also  keep  board- 
ers. (At  Rollin's  the  soap  is  nailed  to  the  wall  ;  be  careful 
not  to  scratch  your  hand. ) 

Cafes  and  restaurants — Mink's  restaurant :  Cove  oys- 
ters a  specialty.  Ike  Jerome's — new;  about  ten  feet  square ; 
calico  curtains.  Ike  will  cook  you  almost  anything  on  the 
gas  stove.  Pleasant,  but  somewhat  close.  Patrons  desir- 
ing to  see  the  proprietor  in  a  clean  collar  must  call  early 
in  the  week,  as  the  one  he  puts  on  Sunday  does  not  last 
usually  over  Wednesday. 

Saloons — *  Palace  saloon  :  Two  glasses  of  beer  for  five 
cents  ;  three  card  tables  (cards  all  there,  but  soiled  ;  the 
card  with  the  comer  bit  off,  green  deck,  is  the  Jack  of  dia- 
monds. Nichols's, Retreat — New  management;  billiards 
and  pool.  (At  the  southeast  corner  of  the  room  is  where 
an  Italian  stabbed  Jim  Pettus  in  189S  ;  the  Italian  was  hung 
the  same  evening  on  the  fourth  telegraph-pole  south  of  the 
Big  Six  station  ;  the  pole  is  painted  white.) 
Post-office — In  Merkel's  Emporium,  rear. 
Cabs,  etc. — One  'bus  is  occasionally  at  the  trains  ;  unnec- 
essary, however,  as  one  can  walk  all  over  the  town  in 
half  an  hour.  Lancy's  livery  stable  will  supply  a  private 
conveyance  ;  there  is  one  good  team,  the  clay-bank  'pair. 
(Make  a  bargain  with  Lancy  before  using  his  horses,  for  he 
is  a  **  thief.) 

Theatres — Opera  House  :  Over  Williams's  hardware- 
store.  '-Uncle  Tom's  Cabin"  yearly.  Other  shows  at 
intervals  ;  see  bills.     Not  patronized  by  the  elite. 

Cliurches  —  Seventy  -  six  denominations  ;  four  chutcli 
buildings. 

Church  fetes,  etc. — Discussion  on  religion  every  night 
during  the  season  in  the  back  part  of  Sale's  grocery  store. 
*  Ephraim  Tutt  is  the  best  arguer  ; 


Blakeslee,  Ames  and 


Rountree  well  spoken  of ;  the  Isist-named  is  louder  but  not  so  long 
as  Tutt.  Picnics  in  Thompson's  grove  in  June  arid  July  (chig- 
gers).  Christmas  trees  at  the  churches  (scholars  desiring  to  re- 
ceive presents  must  have  attended  Sabbath-school  from  November 
15th).  Sociables  around  at  the  private  houses  in  winter.  *  Kiss- 
ing games  are  not  usually  begun  until  ten  p.  m.,  after  the  preacher 
has  gone  home.  (Use  discretion  with  the  citric-acid  lemonade, 
which  is  liable  to  produce  alimentarj'  disorder.) 

Shops  (known  as  stores) — The  best  are  on  Main  street,  as  there 
are  none  anj-wbere  else.  Note  picturesque,  open-vested  cod-fish 
at  Chambers's.  John  Sale's  grocery  is  well  recommended,  as  he 
has  a  team  of  mules  to  deliver  purchases.  Sheet-music  can  be 
'  had  at  Lapham's  drug-store.  (Customers  are  requested  not  to 
handle  the  music  ;  take  the  first  piece  you  come  to  ;  every  one 
guaranteed  popular  and  first  class. )  Good  overalls  at  The  Em- 
porium (ask  for  the  double-seated  kind  ;  insist). 

Amusements,  etc. — Seven-up,  for  beans,  is  the  chief  amuse- 
ment. Those  wishing  to  sit  into  a  game  of  poker,  ten-cent  limit, 
should  notif)'  the  clerk  at  the  City  Hotel.  The  three  Episcopa- 
lian families  play  whist  ;  other  denominations,  authors  and  pit. 
Horse-shoes  in  Meneeley's  pasture,  behind  the  school-house,  on 
pleasant  afternoons.  (Gentlemen  wearing  socks  are  not  allowed 
in  the  game. )  Of  the  walks  and  excursions,  in  the  environs,  the 
pleasure  to  be  derived  from  them  depends  on  whether  one  is 
headed  to  or  from  the  town.     Chautauqua  Circle,  abandoned. 

Higgsville,  with  one  thousand  inhabitants,  is  a  flour- 
ishing inland  town  of  Indiana.  We  leave  the  .railway  sta- 
tion (called  depot)  and  walk  (guide  unnecessar)-)  down 
Main  street.  To  the  southeast  we  observe  Eb  Hopkins 
sitting  on  the  curb-stone,  resting.  To  his  right  and  left 
are  others  (no  choice).  Behind  them  rise  the  gorgeous 
colors  of  a  circus  bill-board  ;  above  this  may  be  seen  the 
tops  of  the  piles  of  lumber  in  Graves's  lumber-yard  ; 
while  still  higher  up  we  perceive  the  sky,  which  is  a  long 
way  off.  Horses  stand  hitched  to  the  racks  all  down  the 
shady  side  of  the  street.  We  take  this  shady  side,  and  as 
we  walk  along  (keep  well  in  from  the  edge  of  the  side- 
walk or  the  horses  will  bite  you)  we  note  on  all  sides  the 
evidences  of  the  strenuous  life  (joke).  Stepping  past 
Nichols's  saloon,  with  its  insistent  fragrance,  we  observe 
the  pies  in  the  window  of  the  German  bakery  (all  the  flies 
of  the  town  are  iiot  here)  ;  the  apple  barrels  covered  with 
wire  screening  (wasps — look  out  1)  in  front  of  Sale's  place, 
the  yellow  dog  asleep  on  the  walk  in  front  of  the  bank, 
and  the  Davis  girls  in  the  spring-wagon,  holding  the 
horses  while  their  mother  shops  ;  and  just  before  we  die 
we  turn  to  the  left,  down  a  side  street,  which  brings  us  to 
the  livery  stable.  Here  one  can  pass  the  time,  in  com- 
pany with  a  number  of  gentlemen  who  are  not  in  trade, 
watching  the  Swede  hired  man  oil  the  harness. 

Pursuing  our  way  a  little  farther  (3  min.)  we  reach  the 
school-house,  the  most  imposing  edifice  in  the  city.  It  is  ot 
the  later  baroque  style,  the  fagade  after  plans  by  Ed  Howe, 
of  Indianapolis,  one  of  the  transition  group  of  architects 
(he  went  to  Nebraska)  of  the  last  century.  It  is  marred, 
however,  by  the  addition  of  large  chunks  of  mud,  evi- 
.  dently  by  a  later  hand.  The  sculptures,  or  intaglio  work, 
on  either  side  of  the  door  are  by  pupils  of  the  modern 
school,  mostly  by  Shorty  Smith  and  the  Gaines  boys. 
This  carving  is  deeply  and  somewhat  humorously  con- 
ceived, but  evidently  executed  hastily.  The  bizarre  aper- 
tures in  the  basement  window  are  by  Muggsy.  The  inte- 
rior is  well  worth  seeing.     We  enter  the  broad  hall,  and 


FOURTH 


BUG\TLLE. 


Talk  about  your  revolutions  in  Russia  and  your  eruptions  of 
Vesuvius  !     Fourth  of  July  in  Bugville  is  a  hundred  times  worse. 

turning  in  at  the  first  door  to  the  right,  we  come  upon  one 
of  the  most  interestmg  relics  of  the  place,  *  Miss  Jones. 
Archaeologists  are  divided  as  to  the  date  of  this  specimen, 
but  the  best  authorities  place  it  in  the  paleozoic  epoch. 
It  is  related  that  President  Roosevelt,  on  seeing  this,  ex- 
claimed "Ouch  !"  In  tlie  rear  corner  seat  note  Muggsy, 
who  can  lick  any  boy  in  school. 

Leaving  now  the  school-house,  we  go  west  by  Judge 
Cy  Perring's  house  (the  judge  is  asleep  most  of  the  time, 
and  doesn't  know  much  when  he  is  awake),  with  its  yellow 
picket-fence  and  cinquecento  gate  and  *iron  dog  on  the 
lawn  ;  pass  through  Hibbs's  back  yard,  to  see  the  onion 
beds,  with  their  rococo  borders  of  broken  bottles  ;  crawl 
under  the  clothes  hanging  from  the  line  ;  beat  the  bull- 
dog to  the  fence  by  the  fraction  of  a  minute  ;  fall  into  the 
.illey,  and  thence  into  the  rear  entrance  of  the  drug-store. 
Here  we  find  a  *  friend,  and  remain  for  a  space  in  the 
back  room. 

As  we  emerge  upon  the  sidewalk  we  note  the  whistle 
of  a  locomotive,  and  at  the  thought  of  a  chance  to  *  leave 
town  we  make  the  railway  station  on  a  dead  run.  We  find 
it  is  a  freight  train,  and  hence  must  walk  (cinders  and  slag 
— keep  on  the  ties)  a  half-mile  down  the  track,  climb  into 
the  caboose,  and  after  being  jerked  and  switched  and 
jolted  for  an  hour  or  so  we  pull  out,  only  to  be  put  off  the 
train  about  two  miles  out  in  the  prairie,  as  the  freight 
train  is  not  allowed  to  carry  passengers.  We  vsalk  the 
rest  of  the  way,  satisfied,  so  long  as  we  are  **  leaving 
Higgsville,  bound  for  *****  anywhere. 

The  Close  of  the  Service. 

it  \i/HY  does  she  always  go  jo  church  just  as  the  people 
are  about  to  come  out  ?" 
"  Because  she  only  cares  for  the  clothes  of  the  service." 


The  Love  of  John  Alden  and  Priscilla 


w 


are  in  love  with 
the  samegirl  they 
don't  usually  go 
around  with  their  arms  about 
each  other's  necks,  and  one 
is  most  generally  plotting  to 
make  hash  out  of  the  other. 

Now,  in  the  days  when  the 
history  of  the  United  States 
was  still  in  short  pants,  and 
the  Pilgrims  were  yet  chasing 
angle-wormsup  and  down  our 
verdant  shores,  there  dwelt  in 
Plymouth  colony  a  man  by 
the  name  of  Miles  Standish. 
History  makes  no  mention  of 
his  ancestors,  and  it  is  very 
probable  that  he  never  had 
any.  I  find,  however,  upon 
more  extensive  search,  that 
both  his  father  and  mother 
were  dead  before  he  was  born. 
Miles  was  in  the  military 
business,  so  he  didn't  have 
much  to  take  up  his  time  but 
spring  cliicken  and  poetry. 

One  day  a  tramp  who  said 
he  had  served  on  the  Con- 
federate side  during  the  Civil 
War  came  to  the  house  and 
Miles  took  h  i  m  in.  The 
man's  name  was  John  Alden.  They  soon  grew  to  be  quite 
fond  of  each  other  and  got  along  nicely.  John  took  care 
of  the  cow  and  put  the  cat  out  at  night  and  was  always 
willing  to  wait  when  they  had  company  to  supper  and 
there  were  not  enough  chairs  to  go  around. 

There  was  a  young  maiden  in  the  colony  who  enter- 
tained steady  company  twice  a  week,  and  Miles  got  deeply 
smitten  on  her.  Every  time  the  cook  baked  an  e.xtra  good 
pie  or  the  cow  gave  cream  two  days  in  succession,  Priscilla 
always  got  some  of  it,  and  Miles's  livery  bill  often  amounted 
to  $3.40  a  week.  At  last  Miles  found  that  he  was  in  love. 
Yes,  love  ;  that  shy  little  trickster  that  induces  a  man  to 
hold  a  dead  weight  of  two  hundred  pounds  on  his  lap  for 
three  hours  and  a  quarter  and  call  it  his  "  little  tuitle- 
dove." 

As  soon  as  he  found  out  what  was  the  matter  with  him 
he  did  his  best  to  cure  it — tried  the  cartilage  system,  and 
slept  out  of  doors  for  three  weeks,  but  it  did  no  good. 
If  Lydia  Pinkham  had  only  been  alive  !  So  matters  went 
on  from  bad  to  worse,  and  poor  Miles's  life  was  despaired 
of.  He  had  been  measured  for  his  coffin  and  the  choir 
was  practicing  "  Rock  of  Ages,"  when  a  bright  idea  struck 
hiiri  and  he  leaped  from  his  bed,  ran  around  the  house 
seven  times,  and  declared  that  he  was  well.     This  is  known 


AN  OliD   STORY  BETOLD 

By  James  E.  Almond 

HEN  two  fellows      as  Christian  Science,  and  retails  at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter 
a  bottle. 

So  Miles  concocted  a  beautiful  little  couplet  about 
"  roses  red  and  violets  blue,  won't  you  marry  me,  p.  d.  q.  ?  " 
and  told  John  to  take  it  to  Priscilla.  Now,  for  a  long  time, 
John  had  been  casting  eyes  in  the  same  direction  as  Miles — 
in  fact,  he  was  negotiating  for  the  purchase  of  the  laundry 
around  the  corner,  and  he  intended  to  set  up  housekeeping 
with  Priscilla  himself.  Priscilla's  old  man  was  president 
of  a  feed-store  in  the  next  block  and  had  laid  up  a  bunch 
of  dough,  and  John  was  sad  when  hp  saw  that  his  chances 
were  getting  as  slim  as  a  water-pipe  after  a  spring  thaw. 

And  so  when  he  got  to  the  door  of  Priscilla's  house  he 
was  weeping  bitter,  salty  tears  as  big  around  as  California 
cherries.  But  he  gave  the  letter  to  the  old  folks  and  then 
he  and  Priscilla  strolled  out  into  the  back  yard  to  inspect 
the  new  calf.  How  many  of  my  readers  have  ever  care- 
fully considered  the  beauties  of  the  new  calf.''  With  an 
anatomy  so  thin  that  you  can't  tell  whether  to  use  it  for  a 
saw-horse  or  a  place  to  paint  "  Keep  off  the  grass,  no  hunt- 
ing allowed."  After  gazing  for  a  while  upon  the  lithesome 
creature  they  gathered  the  eggs,  killed,  skinned,  and  hung 
up  to  dry  a  couple  of  Indians  that  were  prowling  around 
the  cellar  door,  and  then  went  into  the  house. 

When  the  old  lady  told  Priscilla  what  the  letter  con- 
tained the  poor  girl  was  so  shocked  that  she  went  out  and 
gave  a  chunk  of  meat  to  the  cow  and  brought  in  a  dozen 
ears  of  corn  for  the  cat.  Then  she  took  John  aside  and 
told  him  if  he  didn't  marry  her  right  away  she  would  throw 
herself  off  the  cliff  and  probably  perish  on  the  rocks,  five 
hundred  feet  below. 

John  was  so  tickled  at  this  that  he  borrowed  forty-six 
dollars  of  his  father-in-law-to-be  before  he  realized  what  he 
was  doing.  Then  he  and  Priscilla  took  the  3 -.30  car  to 
town  and  were  married  and  lived  happily  ever  afterward. 

And  when  Miles  heard  this  he  was  crazed  with  grief 
and  he  went  out  into  the  wild  woods,  swallowed  three 
quarts  of  carbolic  acid,  and  died  of  a  broken  heart. 

And  thus,  my  friends,  you  will  see  what  happens  to 
those  in  love. 

Just  a  little  word  in  closing— ifyou're  ever  in  love,  either 
get  vaccinated  or  have  it  pul 


led. 


<( 


Ample  Cause. 

OUT    then,  he  had   good   grounds  lor  divorcing  his 


wife." 

"  Is  that  so  ?" 

"  Yes,  indeed. 

"his  new  auto." 


Her  complexion  didn't  match  the  color 


Printer's  Error. 

AN  unfurtunate  printer  named  Flint' 
Rashly  married  a  wealthy  Miss  Print. 
Now  he  cries  he  was  sold. 
For  her  type  is  too  bold — 
And  since  marriage  she's  started  to  squint 


.-J 


BIG  DAN'S  LAST  "RASSLE" 


By  NORMAN   H.    CROWELL 


SPEAKIN'  of  rasslin',"  remarked  the  liveryman, 
as  he  removed  one  boot  from  the  stove  and 
felt  of  it  to  see  if  it  was  scorching,  "  recalls  to 
mind  th'  career  of  Big  Dan  Fogarty,  down  to 
Mudville.  Dan  growed  up  with  th'  idee  that 
he  was  th'  original  rassler,  an'  as  he  managed 
to  keep  th'  heft  of  us  Mudvillains  on  crutches 
nearly  every  workin'  day  in  th'  year,  it  is  no  wonder  Dan's 
cranium  was  some  exaggerated. 

"  Dan  was  a  sizable  lad,  standin'  about  six  foot  three 
an'  bein'  wider  'n  a  barn  door.  His  hands  looked  like  th' 
fag  end  of  banana  bunches,  an'  every  one  of  us  cripples 
was  prepared  to  swear  his  neck  had  ribs  in  it. 

"Dan's  dad  bein"  pretty  well  off,  it  wasn't  necessary 
for  'im  to  do  no  hard  work,  an'  he  jest  growed  up  big  an' 
loose,  with  muscle  stuck  here  an'  there  on  'im  in  groups. 
He  never  trained  any,  unless  it  was  when  he  stopped 
eatin'  pie  for  breakfast,  but  relied  on  his  heft  an' what  few 
tricks  he'd  learned  while  maintainin'  us  fellers  on  th'  sick 

list. 

"Of  course  we  never  thought  but  what  Dan  would 
outgrow  it  in  time,  but  he  didn't  seem  to.  Rasslin'  was 
what  he  was  on  earth  for,  an'  he  gave  it  out  he  was  goin' 
to  foller  it  exclusive.  Down  to  Si  Decker's  store  of  even- 
in's  he'd  corral  us  an'  relate  by  th'  hour  them  rasslin'  anec- 
dotes of  his,  never  stoppin'  to  think  that  we'd  all  been 
right  there  an'  seen  th'  hull  performance. 

••  After  a  while  Dan  got  forgetful  or  somethin'  an'  got 
to  enlargin'  an'  polishin'  an'  ornamentin'  up  them  rasslin' 
tales  of  his  most  amazin'.  Fellers  he'd  throwed  in  thirty 
minutes  he'd  get  it  down  by  easy  stages  to  ten.  Some  nights, 
when  he  was  feelin'  particularly  strong,  he'd  squeeze  it 
down  to  five,  an'  even  three. 

"  By  th'  time  he'd  got  so  far  as  to  claim  he'd  downed 
th'  Cairo  Cyclone  it  six  minutes,  when  we  all  had  timed  it 
at  an  hour  an'  a  quarter  full,  we  begun  to  have  them  sen- 
sations known  as  ongwee.  We  got  our  heads  together 
an'  agreed  simultaneous  that  somethin'  had  to  be  applied 
to  Dan  or  he  might  warp  his  intellect. 

"One  night,  when  Dan  was  out  helpin'  th'  preacher 
round  up  a  stray  Jersey  calf,  we  met  down  at  Si's  an'  con- 
cocted a  deal.  We  elected  Zack  Sanders  as  a  committee 
of  one  to  run  up  to  Chicago  an'  bring  hack  one  o'  them  ter- 
rible Turks  that  was  performin'  up  there.  Seein'  as  Dan 
had  bluffed  us  fellers  into  our  holes  an'  plugged  'em  after 
us,  we  made  up  our  minds  to  separate  him  from  a  peck  or 
SO  of  his  dad's  money,  if  it  could  be  done  as  a  side  issue. 

'  We  dug  down  deep  into  our  jeans  an'  provided  Zack 
with  th'  wherewith,  an'  he  took  th'  night  train.  He'd 
been  in  Chicago  about  a  week  when  he  writ  back  that  it 
was  no  go.  He  said  all  th'  terrible  Turks  was  engaged 
at  'oig  prices,  an'  they  wouldn't  come  short  of  a  cool  thou- 
sand.    When  we   heard   that  we  jest  had  breath  enough 


left  to  write  Zack  to  call  it  off  an'  come  back. 

"  We  went  down  to  th'  depot  to  meet  'im,  leelin'  sad 
an'  lonely  an'  grittin'  our  teeth  every  time  we  thought  of 
th'  expense  money  Zack  had  been  spendin'  all  for  nothin'. 
When  Zack  got  off  th'  train  he  comes  up  to  us  rollin'  'is 
eyes  like  a  hoot-owl  lookin'  at  an  arc-light. 

"  '  Be  ye  sick,  Zack  ?'  says  Bill  Chambers,  mighty  sour, 

"  '  S-s-h  !  Hush  !'  says  Zack.  '  See  that  feller  with  th' 
wicker- ware  grip  gettin'  ofTth"  smoker?' 

"  We  took  a  look  up  that  way. 

"  '  You  mean  that  little  sawed-oflf  yap  with  a  face  like 
a  rutabaggy  ?'  inquires  Jabe  Winters. 

"  '  That's  him — that's  th'  man  !'  says  Jack,  eager  an' 
tremblin'.  '  He'll  chew  Big  Dan  up  an'  expectorate  'im 
through  his  teeth  !' 

"  We  took  another  look  at  th'  ornery  little  runt.  He 
was  bowlegged  as  a  high-grade  bull  terrier  an'  rolled  like 
a  ship  in  a  storm  as  he  come  down  the  platform. 

"  '  Zack,  you've  been  poisoned  !'  snorts  Eph  Williams. 
'  That  feller  will  be  jest  a  piece  o'  huckleberry  pie  to 
Dan.' 

"  Zack  looked  a  little  indignant,  an'  he  says, 

"  '  Mebbe  so,  boys,  mebbe  so.  But  this  feller  agrees 
to  dissolve  Dan  into  his  original  elements  or  no  pay. 
That  sounds  square,  don't  it  ?     What  more  do  ye  want  ?' 

"  We  give  a  general  snort  o'  disgust  an'  Bill  Chambers 
advanced  th'  idee  that  th'  new  man  would  be  adornin'  a 
square  of  ice  in  th'  undertakin'  emporium  after  meetin' 
Dan.  Zack  fired  up  at  that  an'  threw  back  both  shoulders 
till  they  cracked. 

"'Trouble  with  you  fellers,'  says  he,  'is  ignorance. 
When  ye've  traveled  as  much  as  I  have  ye'U  find  out  that 
when  it  comes  to  rasslin'  it's  th'  small  packages  that  carry 
ofTth'  dust  !' 

"  '  You  bet  it  is  !'  says  Bill.      '  They  wipe  it  up  !' 

"  '  Well,  I'll  back  th'  Demon — that's  what  he  calls 
'imself — I'll  back  'im  to  make  Dan  look  like  a  pin-wheel 
th'  day  after  the  Fourth  o'  July  !'  says  Zack  real  warm. 

"We  didn't  rsiake  no  reply,  but  it  am't  more'n  fair  to 
remark  that  a  sort  o'  coolness  sprung  up  betwixt  us  right 
from  that  p'int. 

"  We  walked  down  the  street  a  ways  an'  Mose  Bright 
says, 

"  'Why,  hang  it  !  Dan'll  swaller  that  feller  same  's  you 
would  a  capsool !' 

"  '  It  won't  cost  you  a  cent  if  he  does — not  a  cent  !' 
says  Zack. 

"  That  sort  o'  silenced  us  an'  we  went  on  down  to  th' 
store,  leavin"  th'  Demon  to  go  up  to  th'  hotel  an'  register 
as  Reggie  Honeysuckle,  of  Chautauqua,  New  York. 

"  We'd  been  settin'  there  about  an  hour  sighin'  an' 
twistin'  our  whiskers  when  Charley  Peters,  th'  hotel  man, 
came  slippin'  in  an'  says  he  wants  Big  Dan. 


"  '  What  fur  ?'  says  Dan,  lookin'  up  from  th'  codfish  he 
was  workin'  on. 

"  '  Why,  there's  a  feller  up  to  th'  hotel  that  allows  he's  a 
rassler.  Asked  if  we  had  any  rasslers  hereabouts.  Told 
'im  yes,  but  they  wasn't  his  size.  Asked  what  size  they 
was,  and  when  I  told  'im  he  said  bring  'em  on,  th'  bigger 
th'  better.  I  nearly  died  laughin.'  Come  on,  Dan — it's  a 
vacation  for  you.' 
,    "Big  Dan  chewed  at  th'  cod  for  a  minute. 

"' I  don't  want  to  hurt  anybody,'  he  says.  'I 
might  get  excited  an'  kill  'im.'  ^ 

"  '  Yes  ;  you  might.  Don't  take  any  resks,'  says  / 
Zack,  kind  o'  contempestuous. 

"  Dan  took  a  peek  at  Zack  an'  then  stiffened  up. 

"  '  I'll  jest  go  over  an'  crowd  that  rassler  into  a 
cigar-box,'  he  says.     '  I  need  th'  exercise.' 

"We  all  went  over  in  a  body.  When  we  got 
there  th'  Demon  was  whittlin"  a  whistle  out  of  a 
green  switch  for  a  kid. 

•'  We  all  looked  innocent  as  we  could  while 
Charley  pointed  out  th'  Demon,  an'  then  Dan 
walked  over  an'  tapped  'im  on  th'  nigh  shoulder. 

"  '  Boy,'  says  Dan,  away  down  in  th'  dregs  of  'is 
nature,  '  what's  your  callin'.'     Are  ye  a  rassler  .?' 

"  Th'  Demon  took  a  look  around  kind  o'  surprised. 

"'No  particular  callin' as  I  know  of,' says  he.  'But 
I'm  a  specialist  in  grips.  Also  I  rassle  some  for  pastime 
an'  to  keep  in  condition  to  digest  th'  ordinary  run  o' 
boardin'-house  victuals.' 

"  Dan  sort  o'  licked  's  chops  an'  winked  at  us. 

"  '  Any  objections  to  gettin'  beat,  son  ?'  he  asks  as  ten- 
der as  a  sister  o'  charity  askin'  for  aid. 

"  '  Not  at  all — I  like  it,'  says  th'  Demon. 

"Big  Dan  took  off 'is  hat  an' threw  it  on  th' writin' 
desk.  Then  he  started  to  peel  'is  coat.  Th'  Demon 
looked  around  at  us  weary-like  an'  Zack  passed  'im  the 
wink.  We  see  'im  smile  like  a  man  goin'  to  th'  stake,  an' 
then  he  got  up  an'  stretched.  Say,  he  growed  a  foot 
durin'  that  stretch.  His  backbone  lengthened  out  an'  his 
shoulders  went  up  an'  his  chin  come  down  between  'em 
till  it  looked  as  if  it  had  growed  right  onto  'is  breastbone. 
For  a  minute  I  thought  th'  feller  was  comin'  apart  some- 
where, but  when  he  took  off  'is  coat  I  see  he  was  together 
yet. 

"Then  he  kind  o'  blushed  an'  begun  roUin'  up  his 
shirt-sleeve.  When  he'd  got  up  beyond  th'  elbow  we  be- 
gun steppin'  back  an'  catchin'  our  breath.  That  was  th' 
peculiarest  arm  we'd  ever  saw.  There  was  big  streaks  of 
muscle  laid  onto  it,  an' when  he  bent  it  up  sort  of  casually 
they  all  foot-raced  up  neck  an'  neck  an' piled  up  in  a  knot 
th"  size  of  a  cocoanut  an'  jest  as  hard.  Then  he  begun 
workin'  his  fingers  an'  geese-eggs  bobbed  up  all  over  that 
arm. 

"  Durin'  this  time  Dan  had  been  goin'  on  tellin'  how 
he'd  held  th'  rasslin'  champeenship  of  Mudville  ever  since 
he  was  knee-high  to  almost  nothin",  an'  that  he'd  never 
yet  see  th'  man  that  could  stand  afore  'im.  He  was  savin' 
he  had  prejudices  against  rasslin'  runts  an'  crippled  per- 
sons, but  in  this  case  he'd  overlook  it,  when  Charley  Peters 
hit  th'  counter  a  lick  with  his  fist  an'  yelled, 

"'TIME!' 


THE   WICKED    ESQUIMAU. 
Oh,  once  an  Esquimau  lad  there  was  ; 

On  a  candle  long  and  thick  he  fed. 
His  brother  asked  him  for  the  wick. 
•'  There  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  wick,"  he  said. 

"  Th'  Demon  grinned  an'  stuck  out  'is  hand  to  Dan, 
jest  as  if  he  was  mighty  glad  to  see  'im.  Dan  reached 
out  an'  took  it.  That  was  th'  last  we  see  of  Dan — he 
faded  out  like  a  calico  apron  at  a  steam  laundry.  Th' 
room  seemed  to  be  full  of  hummin',  buzzin'  an'  swishin'. 
Big  hunks  of  language  that  sounded  like  Dan's  came  from 
all  sorts  o'  directions,  an'  things  was  hittin'  th'  walls  an' 
ceilin'  promiscuous.  A  piece  o'  Dan  hit  Bill  Chambers 
in  th'  wind  an'  nigh  killed  'im. 

"  We  jedged  that  big  Dan  was  bein'  handled  some 
rough  and  frolicsome.  Th'  Demon  was  standin'  about 
where  he  was  when  he  begun  an'  he  was  apparently  doin* 
a  combination  jugglin'  an'  balancin'  stunt.  Once  some- 
thin'  hit  th'  writin'  desk  with  a  bang,  but  jest  as  we'd 
begun  to  recognize  Dan  it  faded  away  again,  an'  one  o' 
his  boots  shot  into  th'  dinin'-room  an'  broke  a  lot  o' 
dishes. 

"  Then  th'  Demon  sort  o'  bent  over  an'  spread  Dan 
out  on  th'  floor  an'  started  in  to  brighten  up  the  wood- 
work with  'im.  Dan  made  a  fine  mop  an'  th'  dust  he 
stirred  up  was  surprisin'. 

"  Zack  Sanders  was  as  white  as  a  cellerloid  collar  by 
this  time,  an'  we  begun  to  think  poor  Dan  had  cashed  in. 
But  jest  then  th'  Demon  took  Dan  by  th'  reverse  of  'is 
trousers  an'  shot  'im  about  fifteen  feet  right  against  th' 
springs  of  a  big  foldin'-bed  that  was  standin"  in  th'  corner. 
Dan  hit  'em  fair,  bounced  back,  and  th'  Demon  caught 
'im  on  th'  fly,  revolved  'im  a  few  times  sort  o'  absent- 
minded  an'  then  put  'im  down  careful  in  a  rockin'-chair. 

"  Then  th'  Demon  brushed  a  spot  o'  dust  off  'is  shoul- 
der and  asked  Charley  Peters  for  a  toothpick. 

"  '  It's  quite  warm  this  evenin',  ain't  it  ?'  he  says,  an' 
that  is  all  I  recollect  hearin'  that  feller  say  afterward,  for 
when  we  give  'im  th'  purse  he  jest  shoved  it  down  in  an 
aft  pocket  an'  yawned  as  if  he  was  disgusted  with  life  an 
was  huntin'  a  dry  place  to  lay  down  an'  die. 

"With    close    nursin'    we    pulled    Dan    through.     We 


stayed  by  'im  earnest,  as  th'  sheriff  had  passed  it  out 
strong  that  he'd  pull  every  last  man  of  us  for  manslaughter 
in  case  Dan  died. 

"  Dan  never  rassled  again  in  Mudville.  If  any  one  hap- 
pened to  mention  rasslin'  when  he  was  around  he'd  roll 
up  'is  collar  like  he  was  havin'  a  chill.  He  told  us  that — 
eh,  what  ?  Feller  wants  a  team  ?  Ain't  that  provokin'  ? 
All  right — comin'  !     'Night,  boys  !" 

The  liveryman  stretched  himself  to  his  full  height  and 
•  went  out  pulling  on  his  dog-skin  mittens. 

Chaphorisms. 

A   FELLOW  failing  makes  us  wondrous  blind. 
"^    Those  who  live  in  glass  houses  should  never  throw  fits. 

Many  a  man,  starting  out  to  nail  a  lie  has  bruised  his 
fingers. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  he  who  saves  most  worry  will 
have  least  in  the  end. 

A  cynic  is  one  who  would  fall  off  the  pinnacle  of  joy 
and  make  his  nose  bleed. 

Money  will  not  buy  happiness,  but  it  will  buy  pants  ; 
and  it  is  hard  for  most  men  to  be  happy  if  they  haven't 
any  pants. 

In  New  York  Improper. 

«(AND  do   you   live   in  New  York   proper  ?"  asked  the 
man  of  the  friend  who  had  been  dilating  upon  the 
manifold  advantages  and  attractions  of  Gotham. 

"  In  New  York  proper  ?"  responded  the  friend,  with 
some  accent  upon  the  last 'word.  "  In  New  York  proper  ? 
Oh,  no  !  That  would  be  entirely  too  far  out  (or  me  to  get 
back  and  forth  from  business." 

Very  Practical. 

*'  Ia/HAT  is  a  practical  joke  ?" 

"  One  that  you  can  sell  for  a  dollar  and  buy  bread 
with  it." 


Disillusion. 

|IJ|Y  shallop  sails  along  the  summer  streams  ; 
*'*     Hesperidian  apples,  full  and  ripe, 

Grow  on  the  banks,  and  birds  of  varied  stripe 
Sing  merrily  in  morning's  golden  beams. 
But  ah  !  the  dread  awaking  always  seems 

As  if  I'd  close  connection  with  the  pipe, 

For  then  Reality,  with  one  fell  swipe, 
Shatters  to  atoms  my  frail  ship  of  dreams. 
And  I,  perforce,  must  join  the  sons  of  toil. 

The  rent  is  due,  and  every  day  new  bills 

Are  piling  up  in  dreadful  pyramids. 

My  troubled  waters  need  the  peaceful  oil  ; 

Till  pay-day  I  must  go  the  pace  that  kills 

To  purchase  shoes  and  stoclsings  for  the  kids. 

EUGENE  GEARY. 

All  Wanted  an  Office. 

**  \l/HAT  did  you  do  about  that  Honest  Voters'  League 
that  I  told   you  I  was  afraid  would  cut  in  on  the 
party  vote  at  the  election  this  fall .'" 

"  I  had  a  good  man  go  to  each  member  and  whisper  in 
his  ear  that  he  had  a  good  show  for  some  office  if  he  only 
would  consent  to  run.  Result  was  that  when  the  first 
meeting  of  the  Honest  Voters'  League  was  called  to  order 
there  wasn't  anybody  there  but  the  chairman." 

Making  It  Hot  for  Hubby. 

Private  detective — "  Madam,  here  is  my  bill  for  shad- 
owing your  husband  during  the  past  four  weeks." 

Suspicious  wife — "  Very  well  ;  present  it  to  him.  And 
go  on  shadowing  him  until  you  receive  further  orders 
from  me." 

Tabooed. 

Knicker — "  I  wonder  why  Diplomaticus  was  so  unpop- 
ular with  the  czar  .■"" 

Backer — "  Well,  he  had  a  breezy  way  of  referring  to 
Russian  court  functions  as  blow-outs." 


\-y^y4=- 


PERFECTLY   SAFE. 
The  giraffe  {to  Mr.  Monk,  iv/io  can't  swim) — "  Come  on  in,  Mr.  Monk  ;  it's  only  up  to  my  chin." 


The  Honest  Man 


li/HEN  the  stranger  with  grass  germs  in  his  tresses 
was  shown  the  last  room  back  on  the  second  floor 
of  the  Punktown  hostelry  and  saw  what  sort  of  a  stall 
he  was  to  be  bedded  down  in  for  the  night,  he  bucked  vig- 
orously and  said  in  the  most  offensive  manner  he  could 
summon, 

"Look  at  that  chair!  Liable  to  fall  down  even  if  I 
hang  my  shirt  on  it.  The  wash-pitcher  is  fatally  cracked, 
and  the  bowl  has  a  scallop  as  big  as  a  summer  squash. 
The  carpet  is  full  of  holes  and  dirty,  and  so  much  quick- 
silver has  been  rubbed  off  the  back  of  the  looking-glass 
that  I  look  as  if  I  had  the  small-pox.  The  cover  on  the 
wnshstand  has  been  on  there  for  two  long,  hard,  busy, 
dirty  years,  and  the  bed  looks  like  a  swaybacked  horse 
with  a  thin  blanket  over  it.  If  I  were  to  try  to  sleep  on 
that  bed  I  would  arise  in  the  morning  looking  like  a  waffle. 
The  wall-paper  is  oflf  in  large  patches — in  fact,  it  is  off  in 
a  bunch.  The  ceiling  is  cracked,  and  a  yard  or  so  ot 
plastering  is  liable  to  fall  and  smother  me  in  the  landslide 


at  any  moment.  That  table  is  really  only  a  one-night 
stand,  and  you  couldn't  write  on  it  if  you  had  two  men 
standing  and  holding  it." 

By  this  time  the  porter  was  very  tired  and  angry,  so  he 
cried  out  in  his  ve.xation, 

"  That's  right — kick,  kick  !  But  I'll  bet  a  big  dollar 
you're  not  used  to  any  better  than  this  at  home." 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  stranger  in  Punktown,  "your 
bet  is  begging  for  takers.  Your  proposition  is  too  much 
of  a  cinch  to  bet  on.  Things  at  home  are  as  bad  as  this, 
if  not  worse.  But  what  does  a  man  go  away  from  home 
for  if  not  for  a  change  of  scene  ?  I  hoped  I  would  find 
something  comfortable  and  clean,  and  perhaps  even  ele- 
gant, at  a  hotel." 

Moved  to  tears  of  compassion  by  reason  of  the  man's 
honesty,  the  porter  surreptitiously  escorted  him  to  Parlor 
A,  where  things  were  much  better  because  the  wash- 
pitcher    had    a   smaller   crack    in    it,  and   there  was  one 

upholstered  cliair.  Strickland  w.  GlLLiLAN. 


S*     k*...!  V\ 


Preferred  To 

Be  Miserable. 

AN  aged  negro  cook  in  a 
prominent    family   re- 
cently received  news  of  the 
death  of  a  friend. 

"  Oh,  mah  Lawd  !  oh, 
mah  Lawd  !"  she  sobbed. 
•'  Dey's  on'y  me  lef  now — 
all  de  res'  is  crossed  de  rib- 
ber  I" 

She  howled  and  wailed 
for  an  hour  or  more,  utterly 
impervious  to  all  attempts 
of  her  mistress  to  assuage 
her  grief.  Finally  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  determined 
to  try  the  effect  of  humor. 

"Deborah,"    he    said, 
"you  know  Mr.  Elton,  the 
butcher,  do  you  not  ?" 
Yes.    sah,"  she  replied,  looking  up  through  her  tears  ; 
"'deed  I  do." 

"Well,  what  do  you  suppose  he  weighs  ?" 

'  Lawd,  massa  !  how'd  yo'  spec'  I  know  ?     Whut  do  he  weigh  ?" 
•  Meat." 

The  humor  of  this  appeared  to  strike  her  principally  at  the  hips, 
r  she  held  them  with  both  hands  and  laughed  with  many  a  re- 
erberating  scream  of  delight.  Suddenly,  in  the  middle  of  a 
piercing  screech,  she  stopped,  confused  and  humiliated. 

"Massa,"  she   said  solemnly,  "  whut's  dat  I  ought  ter  be 
feelin'  bad  erbout  ?"  dwight  spencer  andejison. 


EXPERIENCED. 

Miss  'vViLBY  Bride — '■  George  wants  me  to  decide  wliere 
we  shall  go  on  our  wedding-trip.     I  can't  make  up  my  mind." 

Mrs.  Muchwed— "  What's  the  matter  with  Switzerland? 
That's  where  /usually  go." 


This  Language  of  Ours. 
((  ISN'T  it  funny,"  mused  the  man  with  mental  strabTsmus, 
"  that  when  two  locomotives  comes  together  the  result 
is  called  a  collision,  while  two  babies  coming  together  are 
called  twins .''" 


Parable  of  the  Rube  That  Hiked 


By  Strickland  W.  Gillilan 


BEHOLD  now   the  man  that  is  grown    aweary 
of  his  domicile  ! 
Doth  he  not  thirst  for  travel   and  hanker 
for  the  elongated  hike  ? 
Then    it  cometh  to    pass  that    his    yearn 
reacheth   a   point   where   it   acheth    him   day 
and  night,  and    he  sleepeth  not,  neither  be- 
laboreth  his  ear. 

And  when  it  is  so  that  he  tosseth  and  pitcheth  and 
throweth  curves  and  spit-balls  and  in-shoots  upon  his  bed, 
he  maketh  up  his  mind  that  he  will  pull  out  the  basting 
threads  that  unite  him  with  that  place  unto  which  he  is 
so  grievously  anchored,  and  go  afar  ofif;  even  bye-bye  on 
the  choo-choos,  as  is  the  language  of  them  that  have  no 
sense  when  that  they  speak  unto  their  offspring. 

Furthermore  he  mortgageth  the  hind-forty  and  he 
purveyeth  his  wheat  and  his  wool  in  the  market-places, 
so  that  he  getteth  him  an  great  roll  of  paper  shekels  that 
would  have  to  be  squeezed  twice  and  shoved  thrice  to  get 
it  into  the  New  York  subway. 

Then  girdeth  he  up  the  usual  portions  of  him  and  he 


MIXED   ON    HIS   COLOR-SCHEME. 
■"So  I  suppose,  John  Henry  Peeper,  that  you  painted  the  town  a  very  brilliant  red  last  evening?" 
"I  did  think  so  last  night,  my  dear  ;  but  everytliing  has  such  a  decidedly  blue  tinge  this  morning 
that  I  think  I  must  have  been  mistaken." 


beateth  it  to  a  ticket-agent  that  hath  in  a  tall  clothes- 
horse  many  slender  ribbons  of  paper  bearing  thereon 
much  dotty  language,  saying,  "  To  such  a  place  except 
thou  stoppest  over,  then  the  walking  for  yours";  "Good 
for  stopover,  but  not  good  when  thou  gettest  back  on  the 
train,  where  the  conductor  will  smite  thee  with  great 
zeal  ";  "  Not  good  to-morrow  nor  very  good  to-day,"  and 
divers  other  things  that  have  no  meaning — nay,  verily. 

And  it  cometh  to  pass  (but  not  a  railroad  pass)  that 
the  hike-hungry  man  sayeth  to  the  ticket-man,  "Here, 
you  !"  and  the  ticket-man  looketh  not  up  from  the  instru- 
ment whence  cometh  his  name  tick-it. 

Furthermore,  the  philistine  cryeth  yet  again,  "  Hey, 
you  !"  which,  being  interpreted,  meaneth,  "  Why  in  Har- 
risburg  didn't  you  answer  me  before,  you  large-number- 
of-three-em-dashes  lobster  ?" 

Yet,  behold  !  doth  the  ticket-man  cease  doubling  in 
the  brass  or  listening  contentedly  to  the  rattle  of  the 
machine  ?     Nay,  nit. 

Then  doth  the  man  with  the  wanderlust  begin  to  sweat 
scarlet  corpuscles,  and  when  that  he  hath  hearkened  to 

the  yowl  of  the  approach- 


ing five  -  forty  -  three  he 
sayeth  in  a  whisper, 
"  Please,  sir,  if  it  liketh 
thee,  thy  servant  would 
crave  of  thy  personally 
owned  and  conducted 
railroad  a  brief  ride,  if  it 
seemeth  gooti  unto  thee 
to  relieve  me  of  these 
burdensome  golden  di- 
nars that  are  stitched  into 
the  lining  of  my  cordu- 
roys. I  have  spoken. 
Thy  servant  is  a  small, 
yellow  kiyoodle  at  thy 
feet,  but  he  craveth  favor 
in  thy  sight."  ^ 

Then  the  ticket-man 
leisurely  ariseth  as  one 
who  hath  found  himself 
so  overstocked  with  time 
that  he  hath  decided  to 
place  a  lot  of  it  on  the 
bargain-counter  to  make 
room  for  new  goods,  and 
he  setteth  his  hat  on  that 
part  of  his  head  that  was 
meant  to  contain  brains, 
and  he  sayeth  in  one 
word,  "  Wazyousayin- 
sumpin  ?" 

And  when  that  the 
man  outside  the  window 
hath    arisen    from     an 


grievous  fit  and  hath  brushed  the  foam-flecks  from  his  lips, 
hesayeth  :  "Behold,  there  is  thy  servant's  wad  !  Give  unto 
me  an  round-trip  ticket  somewhither,  and  a  trunk-check." 
Then  he  that  is  an  ticket-agent  asketh  the  philistine  it 
he  vvisheth  to  go  by  way  of  Kootenay  or  return  by  the 
way  of  Moose  Jaw.  And  the  man  answeretn  as  in  a  deep 
sleep,  •'  Thou  hast  said."  For  he  wotteth  not  whereof  the 
agent  singeth.  The  tune  soundeth  familiar,  but  behold, 
he  knoweth  not  the  words. 

Then  the  agent  sayeth  something  that  soundeth,  afar 
off,  like  Sam  Poole,  but  that  could  not  have  been  what  he 
said.  And  he  seizeth  from  the  ticket-rack  an  long  rib- 
bon, and  he  runneth  with  it,  and  he  turneth  his  back  upon 
the  ticket-rack  and  he  shulteth  his  eyes  and  pulleth  until 
the  ticket  breaketh  loose  of  its  own  accord  and  the  agent 
falleth  over  the  letter-press  in  the  corner.  And  he  feed- 
eth  the  ticket  through  an  machine  that  spanketh  it  at 
frequent  intervals,  so  that  it  have  an  meaning  in  the  eyes 
of  him  that  is  an  conductor  and  not  to  him  that  is  an  non- 
conductor. 
Selah. 

And  the  man  taketh  his  ticket  and  wrappeth 
it  about  his  waist  and  about  his  neck  and  letteth 
eight  feet  of  it  drag  upon  the  ground,  so  that  he 
stumbleth  over  it  up  the  step  of  the  train  just  as 
the  conductor  calleth  out  "  All  aboard  !"  which 
meaneth  that  peradventure  the  train  will  start 
that  same  day. 

Then  the  man  that  is  anhungered  for  trans- 
planting feeleth  his  oats — even  his  rolled  oats,  his 
oatine,  his  wild  oats  and  his  Bohemian  oats;  like- 
wise some  millet  and  other  cereals,  and  he  chor- 
tleth  a  large  chortle,  saying, 

"  Am  I  not  getting  away  from  home  ?  Will 
not  some  one  else  swill  the  swine  to-night — yea, 
and  even  in  the  morning  ere  yet  cometh  the  day  ? 
Do  I  not  feel  the  rumble  of  the  train  under  me 
and  do  not  my  trousers,  so  long  accustomed  to 
the  harsh,  angular  and  uncompromising  fence- 
rail,  press  plush,  even  red  plush,  with  their  bos- 
om ?  Have  I  not  access  to  the  ice-water  tank 
whenever  those  seven  children  are  not  playing  in 
it  ?  Will  not  the  news-butcher  bring  me  many 
Ben  Davis  apples  that  he  falsely  sweareth  are 
Baldwins,  and  will  I  not  purchase  a  toy  lantern?" 
And  he  crieth  aloud  in  his  joy. 
Now  it  cometh  to  pass  yet  again,  as  night  ap- 
proacheth,  that  he  that  presseth  the  crimson  plush 
wotteth  with  a  sudden  wot  that  he  hath  not  pur- 
chased him  an  berth,  and  he  wearieth  of  sitting, 
even  upon  his  hunkers. 

He  stealthily  openeth  the  pillow-slip  he  hath 
brought  and  sneaketh  therefrom  many  pieces  of 
embalmed  chicken,  and  doughnuts  as  the  sands  of 
the  sea  for  number  ;  and  he  eateth  of  them  so 
restlessly  and  widely  that  the  brakeman  after- 
ward gathereth  up  of  the  fragments  thereol, 
twelve  basketsfuU. 

Then  cometh  upon  the  Rube  the  spirit  of  deep 
sleep,  and  he  curleth  him  about,  like  a  dog,  and 
placeth  his  head  upon  his  coat  on  the  arm  of  the 


seat  and  he  snoreth  in  A  flat  and  dreameth  that  he  is  being 
run  through  a  stone-crusher.  Behold,  doth  it  not  seem 
unto  him  that  the  conductor  awaketh  him  every  few  min- 
utes in  the  night  and  asketh  him  for  his  ticket  ? 

Yet  it  falleth  out  furthermore  that  there  ariseth  upon 
the  much-used  and  manhandled  air  in  the  car  a  perfume 
that  resembleth  in  no  whit  attar  of  roses,  for  behold,  it  is 
eau  de  hosiery.  For  do  not  the  night  inhabitants  of  the 
day-coach  viciously  remove  their  sandals  so  that  the  con= 
ductor  (who  hath  need  to  pass  through  the  aisle  to  beat 
them  into  consciousness  so  that  they  may  not  go  further 
than  they  have  paid)  weareth  of  necessity  a  clothes-pin 
upon  his  nose  while  he  vieweth  the  woolen  aurora  bore- 
alis  on  either  side  ? 

And  again  behold,  O  slothful,  that  the  sons  ol  men 
who  inhabit  the  day-coach  at  the  time  of  darkness  and 
sleep,  get  themselves  into  sundry  attitudes,  from  standing 
on  their  heads  with  their  feet  in  the  luggage-racks,  to  sit- 
ting upon  their  collar-buttons  and  holding  their  mouths 
wide  open,  so  that  the  passing  gazer  might  see  at  a  glance 


PENITENT. 

"  The  last  time  you  were  sentenced,  what  were  you  guilty  of?" 

"  Well,  yer  honor,  I  wuz  sent  up  fer  horse-stealin",  but  dat  ain't 
wot  1  wuz  guilty  uv." 

"  What,  then?" 

"Judge.  I'm  almost  ashamed  ter  confess  it ;  but  I  wuz  guilty  uv 
hirin'  a  lawyer  ter  defend  me." 


whether  or  not  they  had  ever  been  operated  upon  for  ap- 
pendicitis, tonsilitis  or  heanburn. 

Selah  ! 

So  that  when  Rube  is  awakened  in  the  morning  by  the 
twitter  of  the  air-brake  and  the  lowing  of  the  brakeman 
he  taketh  his  right  foot  out  of  his  left  ear,  much  lament- 
ing that  he  must  needs  break  his  leg  to  do  so  ;  he  taketh 
his  left  foot  out  of  the  skirt-pocket  of  the  lady  in  front  of 
him,  and  he  ariseth  with  bones  that  ache  him  even  unto 
death  and  back.  And  behold,  the  taste  inside  his  face — 
is  it  not  that  which  remindeth  him  of  the  wicked  city  chap 
who  once  gave  unto  him  limburger  cheese  that  he  ni'ght 
eat  thereof? 

And  he  wisheth  he  were  home,  and  he  yearneth  for 
sustenance,  yet  his  stomach  crieth  out  many  indecent 
things  when  it  thinketh  of  the  late  lamented  contents  of 
the  pillow-slip. 

Then  doth  Rube  line  up  at  a  nose-bag,  even  a  lunch- 
counter  (so  called  because  the  young  woman  in  charge 
thereof  hath  every  day  to  count  the  lunches  she  setveth 
out  of  the  proprietor's  stock),  and  he  drinketh  coffee  made 
out  of  incinerated  beans  and  he  eateth  the  indestructible 
samhandwitch  of  commerce  and  he  feeleth  different,  which 
is  better,  only  because  he  could  not  feel  worse. 

And  he  resumeth  his  journey,  and  seeth  from  the  win- 
dows of  the  train  many  city  dumps  and  piles  of  lumber 
id  scummy  ponds  and  smokestacks  and  dirty  back-doors 
id  piles  of  burned  ties  on  the  right  of  way  ;  and  he  is  re- 
iced  for  that  he  loveth  scenery. 


Then  sendeth  he  home  an  postal-card,  even  an  souve- 
nir, showing  many  things  of  which  he  not  even  half  wot- 
teth  a  single  wot,  and  he  writeth  falsely  thereon,  saying, 
"  I  saw  this  to-day,  as  is  the  manner  of  them  that  journey, 
even  them  that  hit  the  grit." 

Peradventure  when  that  he  acheth  in  every  bone  and 
agonizeth  in  muscles  he  had  not  aforetime  wist  of,  when 
his  clothing  hath  become  so  that  it  is  no  longer  habitable 
with  wholesomeness  or  comfort,  he  goeth  again  home  and 
is  exceeding  glad,  so  that  it  is  nip  and  tuck  whether  he  or 
the  dog  will  w  in  out  in  the  effort  to  be  first  to  lick  the 
other's  paws. 

And  yet  when  that  he  hath  rested,  he  lieth  vigorously 
and  constantly,  so  that  no  geography  picture  can  be 
shown  him  and  no  place  mentioned  in  the  telegraph  head- 
lines but  that  he  perjuriously  averreth  and  beareth  wit- 
ness that  he  was  once  in  that  place,  and  he  telleth  many 
hand-made  anecdotes  that  he  sayeth  happened  unto  him 
there. 

Now  the  rest  of  the  disagreeable  things  about  travel 
on  the  cheaps,  and  the  things  that  are  done  unto  the 
Rube  who  tiketh  an  non-expensive  hike,  are  they  not 
written  in  the  beautifully  half-toned  circulars  sent  out  by 
the  railroad  companies  advertising  cheap  excursion  rates  ? 

Yea,  verily,  they  are  not  ! 


((  HAS  your  boy  ai 
"      "I   think   he 


an  ear  for  music  ?  " 

le  must  have.     A   hopeless  expression 
always  overspreads  his  countenance  when  my  wife  sings." 


PRESENT  NECESSITY. 
First  tramp — "  How  would  yer  like  a  seat  in  de  senate,  Bill  ?" 
Second  tramp — "  All  right ;  but  jest  at  present  I'd  be  satisfied  wid  a  seat  in  dis  pair  uv  trousers.' 


The  Servant  Problem. 

llViih  ackntywledgments  to  James  T.  Fields' s 
"  The  Tempest.") 

tifE  WERE  glooming  in  the  parlor  ; 
'  '      Not  a  soul  had  nerve  to  speak — 
For  the  cook  had  given  notice 
She  would  quit  that  very  week. 

'Tis  a  fearful  thing  in  households 
To  be  shattered  by  that  blast 

And  to  hear  the  crashing  china 
Which  is  falling  thick  and  fast. 

Oh,  we  shuddered  there  in  silence. 

Father's  face  was  full  of  woe, 
For  he  lacked  the  moral  courage 

To  tell  cook  to  pack  and  go. 

Father  sighed  that  we  should  bounce  her  ; 

Mother  wept  in  sore  dismay. 
She  liad  oftered  higher  wages 

If  the  cook  would  only  stay. 

Every  fortnight  brought  another. 

They  were  bad  enough  at  first, 
lilit  as  one  by  one  they  vanished 

We  declared  each  was  the  worst. 

Father  whispered,  "We  should  take  her 
And  should  throw  her  in  the  street." 

Mother  gasped,  "  How  under  heaven 
Would  we  get  a  bite  to  eat  ?" 

Then  the  little  daughter  murmured 
In  her  anguished  mother's  ear, 
"  Do  they  have  cooks  up  in  heaven 
Just  the  same  as  we  do  here  ?" 

Then  we  kissed  the  little  maiden. 
And  we  hushed  each  fretful  sigh, 

And  we  said,  "  Oh,  Servant  Problem. 
We  shall  solve  you  when  we  die  I" 

WILBUR  D.  NESBIT. 

The  President's  Advice. 

j<  li/HERE  on  earth  have  you  been, 
Henry,  at  this  hour  of  the 
night  ?" 

"  Why,  I  found  a  colored  man  was 
trying  to  get  into  our  chicken-house,  so 
1  went  out  and  assisted  him.  We  had  an 
awful  time  getting  into  the  thing,  but 
he  has  just  gone  with  four  of  our  finest 
pullets." 

"  Henry  Peck,  are  you  a  raving  ma- 
niac ?"     What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Simply  what  I  say.  I  endeavor  al- 
ways to  be  a  loyal  citizen  of  the  repub- 
lic ;  and  didn't  you  see  that  President 
Roosevelt  said  we  should  help  the  negro 
to  help  himself?" 

The  Clerical  Optimist. 

Bachelor — "It's  my  opinion  that  mar- 
riage is  a  failure." 

Clergyman  —  "  You  are  decidedly 
wrong.  My  last  month's  wedding-fees 
will  buy  my  wife's  clothes  for  a  year." 


■Mi' 


Lassoing   a   Locomotive 

By  W.  J.   Lampton 


THEY  were  sitting  in  the  shade  of  the  water-tank 
at  Toluca,  a  Montana  town  consisting  of  the 
water-tanl<,  a  liquor-tanl<,  two  houses  and  a  rail- 
way station.  All  the  rest  is  a  wide  sweep  oi 
sage-brush  and  sunshiny  sky.  At  least,  it  is  on  those  sum- 
mer days  which  call  for  the  shade  of  a  water-tank. 

A  tenderfoot  on  the  station  platform  near  by,  waiting 
for  the  next  train  to  Cody,  was  passing  the  time  trying  to 
rope  a  bag  of  potatoes  and  got  the  noose  over  it  about 
every  sixth  time.     It  was  not  very  exciting,  but  it  served 


NO   EVIDENCE. 

"  An"  wuz  Moike  Imr-rt  whin  th'  autymobile 
shtruck  liim  ?" 

"  Sliure,  they  niver  cud  fciind  out.  Moike 
had  a  shtick  av  doynamoite  in  his  pocket." 


to  attract  the  vagrant  attention  of  the  three  cow  men  in 
the  tank  shade. 

"  I'll  bet  he  couldn't  do  it  one  time  in  two  dozen,"  said 
Joe  Vreeland,  of  Frannie,  in  a  lazy  drawl,  "  if  the  bag  was 
open  and  them  potaters  could  git  their  eyes  on  him." 
There  was  no  short  end  to  the  bet  and  no  takers. 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  how  Ed   Breckons  lassoed  a  loco- 
motive between  here  and  Cody  just  about  the  time  trains 
first  got  running  ?"  inquired  Tom  Northrup,  who  had  fired 
an  engine  back  east  when  he  began  his  career  of  making 
a  living. 

"  Did  he  ?"  said  Daws  Thomp- 
son in  a  tone  implying  doubt. 

"He  did,  and  I'll  tell  you  how," 
responded  Northrup,  not  resenting 
the  implication  enough  to  count. 
"  jid  had  tanked  up  some  at  a  juice 
dispenser  and  was  feeling  spa- 
cious. There  wasn't  much  he 
couldn't  do  in  his  mind,  and  his 
mouth  was  promoting  the  publicity 
of  it.  Bime-by  a  train  pulled  up, 
and  Ed  begun  slinging  his  string  at 
the  men  in  the  cab.  They  give  him 
the  laugh,  and  told  him  if  he  want- 
ed to  noose  a  good  thing  to  try  it  on 
old  Number  23  when  she  got  to 
moving.  Ed  was  game  right  off, 
and  wanted  to  bet  fifty  that  he 
could  catch  heron  the  jump.  The 
engineer  and  the  fireman  put  up 
twenty-five  apiece  and  took  Ed's 
proposition.  It  was  agreed  that  the 
engine  should  have  a  mile  headway 
before  Ed  got  ready  to  throw  his 
rope.  He  rode  up  the  track  to  a 
level  streak  and  waited.  I  guess  he 
had  everybody  in  that  neighborhood  ranged  around  to  see  the 
show.  Party  soon  the  buUgine  come  snorting  along,  and  she 
looked  to  me  like  she  was  pounding  the  ties  for  about  twenty 
miles  an  hour  or  more.  Ed  was  waiting  for  her,  with  his  pony's  tail 
turned  her  way,  and  he  was  watching  over  his  shoulder  when  to 
start.  You  see,  he  was  going  to  run  alongside  for  a  bit,  then  sling, 
same  as  if  she  was  a  steer.  Ed  could  do  it  with  a  steer  to  the 
queen's  taste.  In  a  minute  she  was  there,  and  Ed  was  off.  The 
way  us  spectators  yelled  mighty  near  stunted  the  growth  of  the 
sage-brush  for  the  rest  of  the  season.  Ed  was  swinging  his  rope 
just  like  you  see  it  done  in  picture-books  and  chasing  along  close 
under  the  flank  of  the  bullgine,  when  all  to  once  he  let  go,  and,  by 
heck  !  the  noose  dropped  over  some  of  the  fixings  on  top  of  the 
b'iler  and  staid  where  it  was  put.  The  pony  r'ared  back  on  his 
ha'nches,  being  trained  to  do  it  that  way  whenever  he  seen  the  rope 
go,  and  the  next  thing  we  knowed,  Ed  and  the  pony  was  throw- 
ing summersets  and  figger-eights  and  pigeon-wings  all  over  the 
landscape  and  stringing  themselves  along  through  the  brush,  r?is- 
ing  more  dust  than  would  build  a  ten-acre  ranch.     Lord  knows 


what  might  have  happened  before  the  outfit  got  to  the 
next  stopping-place,  but  the  engineer,  realizing  that  it  was 
up  to  him  to  take  prompt  action,  reached  out  with  a  red 
hot  fire-hook  and  burnt  the  rope  off.  Ed  owes  a  debt  of 
gratitude  to  that  engineer,  he  sure  does.  But  you  ought 
to  seen  the  bunch  when  we  got  to  them  and  began  to 
reorganize  the  wrecl<.     Words  fail  me  at  this  point. 

"  Ed  got  over  it— at  least  he  did  so  as  to  hobble  around 
in  bandages  and  splints — in  about  a  month,  but  the  pony 
was  poorly  for  the  balance  of  the  year,  and  he'd  smell  a 
locomotive  five  mile  and  skin  for  the  cottonwoods.  Who 
wonthemoney?    Ed,  of  course;  but  it  all  went  in  repairs." 

Tommy  Gets  Informed. 

Tommy  Figgjam — "  Paw  ?" 

Paw  Figgjam — "  Yes,  Tommy." 

Tommy  Figgjam- — "  Is  the  conversation  of  a  man  with 
himself  a  monologue  ?" 

Pa<w  Figgjam — "  Yes,  my  son." 

Tommy  Figgjam — "  Is  a  conversation  in  which  two  per- 
sons take  part  a  dialogue  ?" 

Paiv  Figgjam — "  Yes,  Tommy." 

Tommy  Figgjam — "  Then  what  I  heard  going  on  out 
on  our  back  fence  this  morning  about  two  o'clock  must 
have  been  a  catalogue." 


« 


Her  Possessions. 

I  HAVE  two  lovely  little  puppies,"  said  Mrs.  Tawkley. 
i     .€  I    K.,,,..   .Y,«t   >r/%>,i-    »,>,cKonH  "    replied    the    man. 


What  They  Wouldn't  Like  To  Be. 

((  I  WOULDN'T  want  to  be  a  chair," 
*     Said  naughty  Bob  Magee, 
•'  Because  I  simply  couldn't  bear 
To  have  folks  sit  on  me." 

"I'd  hate  to  be  a  clock  !"  then  cried 

Wee  modest  Mabel  Sands  ; 
"For  then  how  ever  could  I  hide 

My  face  within  my  hands?" 

"To  be  a  window  must  be  great," 

Said  little  Harry  Haines  ; 
"  And  yet  I'm  very  sure  I'd  hate 

To  have  so  many  panes." 

"I  just  would  hate  to  be  a  pie," 

Said  hungry  Annie  Gupp. 
"Some  cannibal  might  wander  by. 

And  he  might  eat  me  up." 

"  The  very  worst  things  we  could  be 
Are  rugs,"  said  Tommy  Gay  ; 

"  For  rugs  are  taken  up,  you  see. 
And  beaten  every  day." 

So  all  good  children  should  agree, 
Though  tired  of  their  toys. 

That  after  all  it's  best  to  be 
J  ust  little  girls  and  boys. 

SAM   S.  STINSON. 


I    have   met   your    husband, 
"  Who  is  the  other  one  ?" 


THE  trouble  with  the  plunger  is  that  he  doesn't  always 
*      come  up  again. 


^.CV/N'AC'*^  rt^ 


THOUGHT  IT  WAS  A  NEW  STYLE  OF  AUTO. 
The  horse— "  I  suppose  I'm  behind  the  times,  but  the  old-fashioned  devil-wagon  's  good  enough  for  me.     If  I 
wasn't  such  a  blase  old  skate  tliat  thing  could  scare  me  yet." 


THE  VOICE  OF  A  VICTIM 


By  ELUOTT  FLOWER 


T  WAS  evident  that  his  attire  had  been  flashy 
at  one  time,  but  the  dust  of  the  road  had 
dulled  the  flash.  He  had  walked  far,  and  he 
did  not  enjoy  walking,  but  he  was  resigned 
to  his  fate. 

"  I  was  a  hot  sport,"  he  explained,  "  but  I 
cooled  off  sudden.  It's  me  back  to  the  city, 
where  they  ain't  so  wise.  Wliat  ?  Oh,  I  was 
so  warm  that  I  sizzled,  an'  some  jays  put  me 
on  ice  ;  I  got  friz  up  so  I  can't  make  steam 
any  more — me  that  was  brought  up  with  a 
foxy  bunch,  too.  I  got  to  have  a  guardeen 
appointed,  only  there  ain't  nothin'  left  to 
guard.  I  guess  I  better  marry  an'  borrow 
car-fare  from  me  wife  every  mornin',  not 
trustin'  myself  with  more  'n  that.  Yes  ;  that 
gentle  game  looks  pretty  good  to  me  right  now. 
"  How  did  it  happen  ?  Well,  search  me  ;  I  ain't  got 
it  worked  out  clear  in  me  nut  yet.  Why,  say  !  I  thought 
I  was  so  sharp  that  I  couldn't  turn  over  in  bed  without 
cuttin'  myself  I  lived  where  they  rig  the  sure  things  an' 
deal  Irom  the  bottom  of  the  deck  an'  frame  up  the  cinches  ; 
I  know  seventy-eight  ways  of  takin"  money  from  a  man 
without  lettin'  him  know  he  ain't  gettin'a  fair  shake.  An' 
I  left  me  money  with  a  bunch  of  jays  !  It's  me  back  to  a 
steady  job  now,  for  fair. 

"  It  looked  easy — never  got  me  lamps  on  anything  that 
looked  easier.  Here  was  me,  side-tracked  in  a  jay  town 
an'  amusin'  myself  by  takin'  in  a  little  easy  money  on  fool 
bets.  They  was  all  hot  sports  there,  an'  the  way-station 
sport  is  the  hottest  there  is,  up  to  his  limit  ;  they'd  bet  on 
anything,  so  it  was  easy  for  a  wise  one  from  the  city  to 
frame  up  propositions  that  didn't  really  give  'em  a  chance 
to  do  more  'n  pay  up,  only  when  I  pulled  'em  on  by  loosin' 
a-purpose.  But  it  was  all  small — not  real  business,  you 
know,  only  practice  an'  amusement. 

"  Then  they  got  to  talkin'  of  foot-racin'.  I  backed 
away  quick,  knowin'  that's  the  most  dangerous  thing 
there  is  for  the  man  what  ain't  on  the  inside.  It  looked 
proper  enough,  but  I  didn't  see  where  I  was  due  to  butt 
in  any,  so  I  kept  me  head  closed  an'  let  them  do  all  the 
talkin'.  They  didn't  seem  to  care  about  me  none,  either  ; 
it  was  jest  an  argyment  of  their  own.  There  was  a  lad 
there  that  thought  he  could  run  some,  an'  a  few  was 
raggin'  him. 

■"  Why,'  says  one,  'there's  a  consumptive  over  to  the 
Lake  Hotel  that  could  beat  you  and  never  have  to  push 
himself.' 

"The  Lake  Hotel  was  a  summer  boardin'-house  that 
could  make  room  for  'most  a  dozen  people  by  crowdin' 
some.  All  sorts  of  queer  people  put  up  there,  an'  I  sized 
it  up  that  they'd  planted  a  ringer  there  an'  was  figgerin' 
to  trim  Mr.  Sprinter.     Anyhow,  my  play  was  to  keep  out. 


"  Well,  Mr.  Sprinter  was  sore  right  off".  He  knew  who 
the  feller  was,  which  made  him  all  the  madder. 

"'That  livin' skeleton  !'  he  says.  'Why,  I  can  beat 
him  one  mile  in  five  !' 

"  '  What !'  the  first  one  comes  back  ;  '  you're  jokin'.  I 
ain't  sayin'  that  he  can  run  much,  havin'  to  stop  to  cough 
a  good  deal,  but  you  two  'd  make  a  pretty  even  match. 
I  wouldn't  know  which  way  to  play  my  money — honest  I 
wouldn't.' 

"  Everybody  laughs  at  that,  an'  the  sprinter — his  name 
was  Jake — boils  up  some  more.  It  seems  he's  a  crank  on 
the  foot  game,  trainin'  himself  all  the  time,  so  it  natch- 
erly  riles  him  to  be  told  he's  an  even  thing  with  a  skinny 
that  smokes  cigarettes  an'  coughs  every  other  minute. 

"  '  I  know  him,'  says  Jake  ;  '  I  could  beat  him  so  bad 
you'd  think  he  was  runnin'  backward.  I'll  give  him  a 
mile  start  in  a  five-mile  race.' 

"  '  For  wind  ?'  asks  the  other,  careless. 

"  '  No  ;  for  money,'  says  Jake. 

"  'Fifty  cents,  perhaps,'  says  the  other. 

"  '  Fifty  dollars,'  says  Jake,  shootin'  sparks  out  all  over 
him. 

"This  here  was  goin'  some  stories  higher  'n  the  roof 
for  this  town — five  dollars  bein'  the  accepted  limit  of  bets — 
an'  i  begun  to  take  notice.  It  seemed  like  a  shame  not 
10  get  in  on  the  game,  but  it  didn't  look  safe  to  me.  If  it 
was  all  straight  goods  it  was  the  consumptive's  end  of  the 
bet  for  mine,  for  a  cripple  ought  to  win  with  a  mile  start, 
but  you  never  can  tell  what's  doin'  in  a  foot-race.  When 
it's  horses  the  outsider  's  got  some  sort  of  half  chance,  for 
the  horse  is  straight,  an'  it's  only  the  jockey  that  you  got 
to  figger  on  bein'  crooked,  but  in  foot-race  you  got  the 
horse  an'  jockey  rolled  up  in  one  crooked  package.  So 
it's  me  outside  the  ropes,  doin'  the  spectator  act  an' 
wishin'  I  was  wise  to  the  way  it  was  comin'  off. 

"  If  they  had  their  hooks  out  for  me  they  played  it  jest 
right.  I  ain't  got  it  settled  in  my  mind  yet  whether  it  was 
a  come-on  or  an  accident,  but  they  put  down  the  right 
cards  to  make  your  uncle  Mike  restless.  That  means 
they  acted  like  he  didn't  have  no  interest  in  the  aflair 
at  all.  If  they'd  batted  an  eye  at  me  I'd  have  put  my 
hands  in  my  pockets  an'  sewed  'em  in,  but  they  put  me 
on  the  bleachers  right  from  the  jump  ;  I  didn't  have 
nothin'  to  do  but  watch  the  fun  ;  it  was  a  local  rumpus, 
an'  I  was  an  outsider.  But  it  was  awful  tryin'  on  the 
nerves  not  to  have  any  chance  for  the  money,  when  it  was 
flashin'  in  front  of  me. 

"  Well,  they  put  up  the  real  cash,  an'  fixed  a  day  for 
the  race.  Then  Dan,  the  feller  that  was  backin'  the  un- 
known from  the  Lake  Hotel,  got  his  man  out  an'  tried  his 
paces.  I  went  along.  Say  I  they  flattered  him  some  by 
callin'  him  'the  cigarette,'  because  he  was  laid  out  more 
on  the  gen'ral  lines  of  a  match — a  burnt  match.     It  didn't 


look  like  he  was  any  more  use  than  a  match  mat's  lit  a 
cigar  and  gone  out.  He  had  the  long  legs,  but  he  couldn't 
work  'em  last  enough  to  count  high.  Still,  on  a  straight 
■deal,  my  money  would  have  gone  down  on  '  the  cigarette,' 
for  one  mile  in  five  is  an  awful  handicap,  an'  Jake  was  no 
prize  sprinter,  except  in  his  mind.  1  figgered  that  Jake 
might  pull  down  a  half-mile  lead,  but  a  mile  had  him  all 
to  the  bad — he  was  zero. 

"  That's  the  way  it  looked  to  the  local  sports,  too,-  for 
there  was  nothin'  doin'  even  at  odds,  on  Jake's  side  of  the 
game  ;  he  put  up  his  fifty,  an'  he  was  the  only  one  who'd 
risk  anything  on  his  chance  to  win.  So  sittin'  on  the 
fence  while  the  procession  went  by  was  all  there  was  to 
do,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  no  matter  how  bad  I  wanted  to 
act  foolish. 

"  Then  '  the  cigarette  '  give  me  the  office  that  there 
might  be  happenings — yes,  sir  ;  that  frazzled  pipe-stem 
give  me  the  signal  that  he  had  me  placed  an'  could  put 
me  wise  to  something  real.  It  'most  knocked  me  over, 
but  I  could  see  he  was  the  goods  all  right,  so  I  got  him 
alone.  He  was  waitin'  to  be  forgotten  by  some  of  them 
eyes  that  never  sleeps,  same  as  I  was.  I  don't  remember 
what  the  trouble  was,  but  he'd  skinned  a  sucker  some 
way  that  was  too  bold,  so  it  looked  like  a  good  time  to 
rest.  I'd  got  mixed  up  with  a  feller  that  come  down  to 
the  city  to  buy  some  experience,  an'  kicked  on  the  price  I 
made  him  pay  for  it,  which  was  why  I'd  side-tracked 
myself  while  he  got  tired  waitin'  to  ptosecute.  That 
made  me  an'  '  the  cigarette '  feel  like  old  pals. 

"  '  It's  twenty-five  for  me  to  vi'in  this  race,"  says  '  the 
cigarette,'  'an'  all  the  loose  money  in  town  for  me  to  lose 
it.     Are  you  wise  ?' 


.\T   THE  YOUNG   LADIES'   SEMIN 
Deacon  Mouse  (r7//['<!r(>(j'.f«(/(/c-«/)')—" Good  heavens!    the 
about  this  neighborhood  are  positively  demoralizing." 


•'  •  I  don't  need  no  earthquake  to  wake  me  up,'  I  tells 
him  ;  '  but  you  couldn't  lose  if  you  lay  down  an'  rolled  the 
distance.' 

"  '  I'm  a  sick  man,'  he  says,  •  an'  I'm  overtrained  awful. 
If  they'd  let  me  alone  I  could  have  made  the  distance 
easy,  but  it's  comin'  harder  every  time  they  put  me  over 
the  course.  I  got  such  a  weak  stomach,  an'  me  heart's 
bad.  It  don't  look  to  me  like  I'll  be  able  to  finish  at  all 
when  the  race  comes  off.' 

"  '  Can  you  make  it  stick  ?'  I  asks. 
"'Sure,' says   he  with  a  wink.     'Ain't  they  givin' me 
half  the  bet  for  winnin'  ?     An'  don't  I  lose  the  twenty-five 
when  I  don't  win  ?     Any  jay  can  see  it  would  tear  me  up 
awful  to  lose  that  easy  money.     How  strong  are  you  ?' 
"  '  I  count  up  a  little  better  'n  three  centuries,'  says  I. 
"  '  I   can't  scrape   up  more'n  two,'  he  says,  '  but  the 
way  I'm  lettin'  'em  train  me  's  worth  something.' 
"  '  We'll  split  even,'  I  says. 

"  That  suits  him  an'  he  passes  over  his  two  hundred, 
which  gives  me  five  hundred  for  bettin'.  It  wouldn't  never 
do  for  him  to  place  no  money,  so  that  was  my  end  of  the 
game.  Say  !  I  was  scared  for  fear  I  couldn't  get  it  all  up, 
the  sports  bein'  mostly  of  the  two-dollar  kind,  but  this 
looked  so  good  that  they  hollered  for  it.  I  never  see  a 
way-station  bunch  that  was  so  eager.  They  was  raisin' 
money  on  everything  they  had,  an'  givin'  odds,  so  's  to 
draw  out  every  penny  I  had  in  my  clothes.  They  got  it 
all,  too.  i 

■'  Now,  honest  !  wouldn't  it  look  to  you  like  a  pipe  1  I 
didn't  see  no  way  to  lose.  They  couldn't  win  a  penny 
unless  '  the  cigarette  '  got  in  first,  and  he  stood  to  lose  two 
hundred   if  he  did.     Ain't  that  as  safe  as  they  make  'em  ? 

Even  if  '  the  cigarette '  was 
crooked  they  didn't  have 
the  money  to  make  h  i  m 
throw  me  down,  for,  with 
the  odds,  he  stood  to  make- 
three  hundred  clear  with 
me,  an"  they'd  have  to  bid 
up  more'n  they'd  make  to 
beat  that  an'  cover  the  two 
hundred  he'd  lose.  Oh,  you 
couldn't  figger  out  anything 
safer  'n  that,  on  the  face 
of  it. 

"  No,  'the  cigarette 
didn't  throw  me  down  ; 
he  couldn't,  for  the  why  I've 
told  you.  It  was  that  teller 
Dan — the  one  that  was 
trainin'  'the  cigarette'  — 
that  did  it.  He  was  a  husky 
cuss,  an'  he  follered  his 
man  in  a  buggy.  The  course 
was  laid  out  over  country 
roads,  you  know,  an'  there 
was  watchers  for  both  sides. 
'  The  cigarette  '  an'  me  had 
it  framed  up  that  he'd  go  to 
pieces  in  the  last  half-mile 
— jest  give  out  an  irop. 
He  was  goin'  to  make  it  so 


ARY. 
sights  one  is  compelled  to  see 


strong  that  they'd  have  to  send  an  ambylance  for  him. 
But  he  didn't.     No  ;  he  couldn't.     'Cause  why  ? 

"  Well,  I  see  the  cause  riglit  at  the  finish.  I  was 
waitin'  there  to  take  in  the  money,  when  '  the  cigarette  ' 
hove  in  sight,  an'  he  wasn't  loiterin'  a  little  bit.  Well, 
hardly.  He  was  strainin'  every  nerve  to  keep  ahead  of  a 
man  with  a  buggy-whip,  an'  the  man  was  this  big  husky 
Dan  what  had  started  the  whole  thing.  That's  what !  It 
was  a  man  with  a  buggy-whip  that  busted  our  combina- 
tion wide  open.  When  •  the  cigarette '  begins  to  give 
out,  accordin'  to  schedule,  Dan  jumps  from  the  buggy  an' 
lashes  him  on  the  legs,  an'  '  the  cigarette  '  can't  get  far 
enough  away  from  that  whip  to  even  faint.  It  ain't  easy  to 
sink  down  weary-like  when  every  little  slackin'  up  raises 
welts  on  the  legs  ;  there  ain't  the  chance  to  relax.  Why, 
say  1  •  the  cigarette  '  comes  in  dancin' — dancin'  an'  yellin'. 
He  was  the  liveliest  man  with  a  weak  stomach  an'  a  bad 
heart  that  ever  come  over  the  hummocks. 

"  But  I  wasn't  there.  No  ;  I'd  faded.  I'd  liked  to  have 
claimed  a  foul  or  something,  but  the  way  those  jays  acted 
made  me  think  it  wasn't  a  good  time  for  discussion.  I 
didn't  even  wait  for  '  the  cigarette,'  but  I  understand  he 
kept  right  on  goin'  after  he'd  crossed  the  line.  I  ain't 
had  time  to  bother  about  him  ;  I'm  hittin'  it  out  for  the 
city,  where  the  wise  folks  live.  The  smart  men  of  the  city 
for  me  ;  they're  easier  marks  when  you  get  right  down 
to  it." 

Dismal  Failure. 

COMETIMES   one    attempts   to    be    facetious    with  the 
wrong  person — the  individual  of  no   facetiety,  as   it 
were. 

Recently  I  was  going  from  Baltimore  to  Pittsburg, 
making  the  first  stage  via  the  Northern  Central  branch  of 
Mr.  Cassatt's  railroad.  The  conductor  was  a  man  of  in- 
telligent appearance,  so  when  I  handed  him  my  mileage- 
book  and  he  proceeded  to  reel  off  a  few  yards  of  its  gen- 
erous length,  I  remarked  merrily, 

"  The  company  aims  to  make  the  length 
of  mileage-strip  in  the  book  correspond  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  the  actual  distance  trav- 
eled, it  seems." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  sol- 
emnly replied. 

"I  mean,"  I  said  with  that  sinking 
feeling  one  has  when  a  joke  begins  to  fall 
flat,  "  that  you  have  to  tear  off'  a  couple  of 
yards  of  that  mileage  for  my  trip." 

"  Yes,"  he  said  again  with  the  patient  air 
one  employs  in  talking  with  very  young 
children,  insane  people  and  idiots  ;  "  but, 
you  see,  you  get  to  ride  a  good  deal  further 
than  two  yards,  or  even  two  miles." 

For  the  remainder  of  that  trip  I  didn't 
speak  to  a  soul,  except  to  remark  earnestly 
as  to  the  state  of  weather  and  the  probabil- 
ity of  rain,  Strickland  w.  gillilan. 


The  Man  Who  Is  Ahead. 

[N  almost  every  newspaper  you  pick  up  you  are  pretty 
sure  to  find  a  lot  of  gush  about  the  man  behind  the 
counter  and  the  man  behind  the  gun  ;  the  man  behind 
the  buzz-saw  and  the  man  behind  the  son  ;  the  man  be- 
hind the  times  and  the  man  behind  his  rents  ;  the  man 
behind  the  plowshare  and  the  man  behind  the  fence  ;  the 
man  behind  the  whistle  and  the  man  behind  the  cars  ;  the 
man  behind  the  kodak  and  the  man  behind  the  bars  ;  the 
man  behind  his  whiskers  and  the  man  behind  his  fists  , 
and  everything  is  entered  on  the  list.  But  they  ve  skipped 
another  fellow,  of  whom  nothing  has  been  said — the  fel- 
low who  is  even,  or  a  little  way  ahead  ;  who  pays  for 
what  he  gets,  whose  bills  are  always  signed.  He's  a  blamed 
sight  more  important  than  the  man  who  is  behind.  All 
the  editors  and  merchants,  and  .  the  whole  commercial 
clan,  are  indebted  for  existence  to  this  honest  fellow-man. 
He  keeps  us  all  in  business,  and  his  town  is  never  dead  ; 
and  so  we  take  off  our  hats  to  the  man  who  is  ahead. 

An  Honest  Tramp. 

((  I  ADY,  won't  you  give  a  poor  old  fellow  something  to 
eat.''  I'm  an  honest  man,"  pleaded  the  tramp  at 
the  back  door. 

"  Prove  your  honesty,"  suggested  the  sweet  little 
woman. 

"  I  have  not  suffered  from  the  San  Francisco  earth- 
quake." 

Without  another  word  he  was  taken  in  and  given  such 
a  feast  as  seldom  falls  to  the  lot  of  those  who  take  so 
many  free  rides  on  the  railroads. 


uPvO  you  wish  to  have  me  make  your  portrait  life-size  ?" 
asked  the  artist. 
"  Certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  Justgottitt.     "It'll  probably 
cost  more  for  the  frame,  but,  gracious  !  we  ain't  goin'  to 
stick  at  a  little  thing  like  that." 


THE  man  in  office  nowadays  who  has  never 
been    suspected    is    indeed   a    fit   subject 
for  suspicion. 


RUBBER. 

Says  hubby,  surprised,  "Goodness  knows, 

How  can  you  wear  stockings  like  those? 

They  cause  so  much  gazing. 

And  neck-craning  amazing. 

They  really  should  be  called  rubber  hose. 


A   Little   Banking   Business 

By  Horace  Seymour  Keller 


T'HE  following  happened  in  Cincinnati  shortly  after  the 
close  of  the  Civil  War,  when  money  was  tight  and 
times    pressing.     It   is  verified    by  Captain    Beclc- 
with,  who  is  acquainted  with  the  parties  interested. 

A  young  German,  accompanied  by  a  middle-aged  man, 
entered  a  bank,  approached  the  teller  and  said, 

"  If  you  blease,  vill  you  gif  dis  man  eight  huntred  tol- 
lars  ?" 

The  teller  gasped,  scratched  his  pate  and  asked. 


WllflliW^ 


BETTER   THAN   A  COBBLE-STONE. 
JC'HNNY — "  Don't  move,  gampy  ;  I've  got  only  half  a  bag  more  o'  these  torpedoes, 
an'  yoiir  head  is  the  bulliest  place  I've  found  to  set  'em  off  on  !" 


"  And  who  are  you  ?" 
"  John  Zimmerman." 

"  But  you  have  no  money  on  deposit  here  " 

"  No  ;  I  got  no  money  by  any  blace.     Vot  is  der  tiffer- 

ence  of  it  ?     It  vas  a  pank,  ain'd  it,  vhere  money  vas  got  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  but   I  cannot  let  you  have  the  money  '.vithout 

security  " 

"  Vot  of  it  ?  Der  security  vas  der  grocery-store  vhich 
I  haf  bought  off  der  man  vor  eight  huntred  tollars.  He 
vants  der  money  vhich  I  haf  not  got. 
Der  pank  haf  blendy  money  ;  so  blease 
ii  you  vill,  gif  der  man  der  brice  of  der 
store.     It  vas  blain  " 

"  I  can't  let  you  have  the  money  " 

"  Gentlemen,"  broke  in  the  cashier, 
who  had  been  an  amused  and  interested 
listener  to  the  conversation,  "step  into 
this  room.  Perhaps  we  can  disentangle 
the  problem." 

"  It  vas  no  broblem.  It  vas  easy  as 
noding,"  uttered  the  young  German. 

"  Please  be  seated,  gentlemen.  Now, 
Mr.  Zimmerman,  kindly  tell  me  why  you 
thought  you  could  get  the  amount  of 
money  from  this  bank." 

"  Veil,  dis  vas  a  pank,  ain'd  it  ?" 

"  Precisely  ;  go  on,  Mr.  Zimmerman/' 
responded  the  amused  cashier. 

"  Und  pecause  it  vas  a  pank  vhere 
money  vas,  vas  der  reason  vhy  I  come  aft- 
er der  brice  of  der  grocery-store.  Oder 
beoples  do  der  same,  und  vhy  not  I  ?  I 
puy  out  his  store." 

"  Where  is  the  store  ?" 

"  Just  down  der  street." 

"  And  you  paid  the  gentleman  eight 
hundred  dollars  ?" 

"  Not  yet,  but  vill  so  soon  as  der  pank 
gif  me  der  money." 

"And,  Mr.  Zimmerman,  you  were  posi- 
tive that  the  bank  would  let  you  have  that 
amount  without  any  security  ?" 

"  Veil,  der  pank  haf  blendy  money.  I 
don'd  got  no  money.  Derpank's  pizness 
vas  vor  to  gif  me  der  money.    It  vas  blain." 

The  cashier  smiled,  studied  the  hon- 
est, frank  face  before  him  and  finally  said, 

"  I  think  we  can  arrange  the  matter." 

He  drew  up  a  bank-note  for  one  year 
and  asked  the  German  to  sign  it.  Leading 
the  way  to  the  teller's  window  the  cashier 
said, 

"  Give  Mr.  Zimmerman  the  money." 

And  to-day  the  German,  who  had  so 
slight  a  knowledge  of  banks,  banking  and 
securities — but  who  won  out  because  of 
his  frank,  honest  face — is  worth  a  quarte; 
of  a  million  of  dollars. 


#-- 


IT  HAPPENED  IN  CARDLAND 


BY  W.   F-.   SMITH 


lOR  so  warm  a  night," 
he  said,  turning  to 
those  clustered 
around  him,  ."I've 
been  through  a  sequence  of 
strenuous  stunts, 
as  my  soiled  duds 
indicate.  Usual- 
ly I  am  found  in 
the  company  of 
crowned  heads, 
but  to  -  night  I 
was  in  no  mood 
for  Imperial  so- 
ciety. Weary  of 
posing  as  a  pop- 
injay, and  hav- 
ing a  leisure 
hour  before  train 
time,  I  longed  to 
mingle  with 
those  who  are 
natur a  1 — n  o  t 
pampered  with 
affectation,  gau- 
dy raiment,  and  titles.  So,  to  gratify  the  longing,  I 
disguised  myself  by  donning  this  suit  of  serge,  and  saun- 
tered into  the  Hotel  Morte  for  dinner.  That  was  where 
I  got  in  wrong,  for  I  stacked  up  against  a  waiter  who 
proved  to  be  a  knave.  Although  he  was  crooked,  I  would 
have  gambled  on  his  honesty,  for  he  looked  as  pious  as 
Pope  Joan. 

"  I  gave  him  Carte  Blanche  as  to  my  meal,  and  he 
served  a  fine  layout.  When  he  brought  my  bill  I  had  but 
a  minute  wherein  to  make  Connections.  I  laid  a  ten- 
spot  on  the  tray,  and  the  waiter  passed  out  of  my  sight. 
Glancing  at  the  clock,  I  discovered  it  was  Seven-up  to 
the  second.  My  train  was  due  and  I  pictured  my  titled 
friends  and  their  retinue  awaiting  me  at  the  station. 
Still  no  waiter  appeared,  and  I  knew  instinctively  that  I 
had  been  worked  for  the  rake-off. 

"  Being  justly  indignant,  I  hunted  up  the  proprietor 
and  complained  about  the  stolen  Boodle.  I  introduced 
myself  and  asked  for  a  square  deal,  but  he  gave  me  a 
cold  hand.  As  I  had  missed  my  train  I  begged  for  a 
room.  He  told  me  I  was  a  kicker,  and  as  a  blind,  claimed 
he  had  a  full  house.  Compared  with  that  fellow,  a  high- 
wayman would  not  have  been  a  marker.  From  the  cool 
manner  in  which  he  turned  me  down,  it  was  a  Cinch  that 
I  was  the  victim  of  a  Freeze-out;  so  without  more  ado  I 
sneaked. 


::  All  the  terms  which  have  common  usage  in  connection  with  games 
of  cards  are  concealed  in  this  story.  Any  reader  who  comes  within  five 
of  a  complete  list  will  receive  the  LlBRAAY  tree  for  one  year. 

13 


"  An  hour  or  so  ago  that  waiter  lurched  up  against  me 
in  the  street.  He  was  a  gay  buck  and  his  mien  was  that 
of  a  king.  On  his  arm  hung  a  woman,  gaudy  as  a  queen, 
whom  he  addressed  as  '  Kitty. '  She  was  attired  in  black 
and  must  have  been  a  widow,  for  she  cuddled  up  to  him 
like  one  who  knew  all  about  the  game  of  Hearts.  As 
for  him,  he  was  making  good  with  melting  words  as  only 
a  Coon  Can.  He  is  young — not  over  Twenty-one — and  is 
no  doubt  hoarding  up,  by  hook  or  crock,  for  a  wedding. 
Poor  fools !  Matrimony  is  something  I  take  no  stock  in. 
At  best  it's  a  Lottery.  My  preference  is  a  single  bed 
with  no  other  sleeper' to  disturb  my  slumbers.  As  for 
widows— beware  of  them !  They're  tricky  as  second 
dealers. 

"  But  about  that  nigger — at  first  I  thought  to  bluff 
him  into  returning  my  money.  I  caught  him  by  the  col- 
lar, whereupon  he  tried  to  draw  a  razor.  Stooping  down, 
I  picked  up  a  Club,  and  came  within  an  ace  of  tapping 
him  on  his  nob  with  it.  However,  I  couldn't  afford  to 
get  into  a  cutting  scrape.  It  woulu  have  gone  hard  with 
my  cuticle — would  have  meant  arrest  and  the  hospital; 
and,  besides,  I  did  not  want  to  be  searched — I  had  too 
many  Diamonds  about  me.  Resolving  to  square  accounts 
later  with  the  fellow,  I  passed  him  up. 

"  At  the  store  of  a  near-by  hardware  dealer  I  bought  a 
Spade.  My  purpose  was  to  bury  my  valuables  temporarily 
in  the  hole  I  meant  to  dig  on  the  water-front.  That 
scheme  was  revoked  by  circumstances.  When  I  reached 
the  crib,  which  is  Down-the-river  near  the  riffle  under  the 
Bridge,  '  Whist!'  I  heard  somebody  say,  and  immediately 
I  dropped  on  All-fours  to  hide. 

"  '  Here  comes  California  Jack,  the  biggest  copper  on 
the  force,'  a  voice  called;  'and  if  he  should  catch  you 
digging  at  this  hour,  he  will  pinch  you  on  suspicion,  Pitch 
you  into  the  river,  or  beat  you.  He  carries  a  mace  heavy 
as  a  Poker!' 

"That  straight  tip  gave  me  such  a  turn  that,  even 
before  the  echo  of  his  words  had  died  away,  I  lay  down, 
face  up,  the  better  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  officer.  After 
he  had  gone  I  discerned  a  man  signaling  to  me.  When 
he  drew  near  I  said  to  him, 

"  '  Who  are  you.  Partner?' 

"He  laughed  reassuringly.  'Right  you  are,'  he 
agreed.  '  I'm  not  your  opponent,  no  matter  what  your 
game  may  be.  I'm  Sancho  Pedro,  the  father  of  triplets 
and  Big  and  Little  Cassino;  a  card-sharp  who  always 
takes  care  of  his  kind.  Though  we're  not  two-of-a-kind, 
you  look  like  a  good  fellow.  It  seems  to  me  I've  seen 
you  before,  but  I  can't  place  you.  Now  that  you're  safe, 
you  can  stand,  Pat. ' 

"  His  proposition  was  timely  and  I  was  content  to  ac- 
cept it.  He  reached  down  and  gave  me  a  lift.  He  had 
a  tight  hand  and  his  strength  was  wonderful.     I  informed 


THE  INSTALLMENT  PLAN. 
"  Gladys  says  she  wishes  she  had  bought  the  duke  on  the  installment  plan." 
"  How  so  ?" 
"Why,  then  all  she  'd  have  to  do  would  be  to  stop  payment,  and  they'd  take  him  away." 


him  I  was  not  Ir- 
ish, and  asked 
where  he  lived. 

"  '  Over  on  Fa- 
ro Street,  a  few 
doors  from  Dom 
Pedro,  Shasta 
Sam,  Bob  Tail, 
Jack  Pot,  Fan  Tan 
and  Loo,'  he  an- 
swered. '  My 
number 's  across 
the  way  in  the 
second  square — 
Sixty-six.  If  you 
have  any  money 
about  you,'  he 
added,  as  an  after- 
thought, '  I  can 
Spoil-five.' 

"  It    happened 
that  my  roll  was  All-fives,   and,  being  sincerely  grate- 
ful for  his  help,  I  loaned  him  Forty-five  dollars.     When 
I  staked  him  so  liberally  he  exclaimed, 
.    "  '  Lordy  !     Who  the  deuce  are  you — the  Earl  of  Cov- 
enrry  or  some  other  Napoleon  of  finance  or  Commerce?' 

"  '  Did  j'ou  ever  hear  of  a  Miss  Deal?'  I  inquired. 

"'I  know  her  well,'  he  replied.  'You  can  always 
count  on  her  to  turn  up  at  Euchre  and  other  card  games. ' 

"  '  Well,  I'm  a  close  friend  of  hers,'  I  said,  laughing. 
'  I'm  the  High  Mogul  of  the  Gamesters'  Universal  Union. ' 

"  A  puzzled  look  crossed  his  face.  '  I  suspected  you 
were  somebody  of  importance  the  moment  I  laid  eyes  on 
you,'  he  declared;  'and,  while  I'm  sure  I  know  you,  I 
can't  tell  just  where  I've  seen  you.  But,  after  all,  that 
doesn't  matter.  I  want  to  tell  you  right  now  that  you're 
a  trump.  I  appreciate  your  generous  action,  and,  come 
what  may,  I'll  not  discard  you,  so  long  as  I  can  possibly 
stay  with  you.' 

"  I  had  half  a  mind  to  tell  him 
I  was  not  a  trump  and  never  had 
been,  but  he  was  so  satisfied  with 
his  own  deduction  that  I  disliked 
to  contradict  him. 

"  We  started  down  the  street. 
Soon  we  came  to  the  Grando  dance 
hall  and  gambling  den,  and, 
when  Sancho  said  he  was  going 
in,  I  followed  suit.  The  place  is 
cozy.  Opening  off  the  bar  are 
two  small  side  rooms — a  sort  of 
right  and  left  bower.  They  were 
both  filled,  and  we  didn't  enter 
them. 

"  I  have  a  weakness  for  high- 
balls and  invited  my  companion 
to  take  one.  After  drinking  a 
few  we  joined  in  a  Quadrille  and 
had  high  Jinks.  In  short  order 
we  got  right  in  the  shuffle.  My 
new  friend  was  clever.     Old  as 


A  TRUST. 
U^eary  Warbler — "  Who's  the  chap  up  there 
in  the  gilt  house  >" 

"  Oh,  he's  a  member  of  the  bird-seed  trust." 


he  is,  he  took  the 
lead  in  the  festivi- 
ties and  acted  The 
Hopeful  to  perfec- 
tion. As  an  enter- 
tainer he  proved 
the  limit.  He 
danced  a  clog  and 
did  the  straddle, 
and  wound  up  with 
such  a  fine  Solo 
that  I  presented 
him  with  a  Soli- 
taire. 

"A  game  of 
Stud  attracted  us, 
and  we  each 
bought  some  chips 
and  sat  in,  hoping 
to  make  a  grand 
coup.  But  we 
soon  found,  by  sorting  the  cards,  that  we  were  up  against 
a  skin  game. 

"  Next  we  tried  our  luck  at  Baccarat.  One  flashy  fel- 
low, who,  I  was  told,  is  a  member  of  the  Jockey  Club  at 
Saratoga  or  Boston — I  don't  recall  which — played  as  if 
he  was  standing  in  with  the  dealer.  His  actions  were  so 
suspicious  that  I  said, 

"  '  What  are  you  trying  to  do — fleece  us,  as  they  did 
at  the  other  table?' 

"  '  No,'  he  replied,  with  a  grin;  '  we're  not  after  you. 
We're  simply  striving  to  Beggar  Your  Neighbor.  He 
plays  like  a  dummy.' 

"  That  remark  Put  my  pard  on  his  mettle,  and  I  soon 
realized  that  he  was  a  professional — a  card-sharp,  as  he 
had  claimed.  I  knew  at  once  that  he  had  purposely 
allowed  himself  to  be  trimmed  at  our  first  sitting.  He 
showed  no  mercy  and  played  them  so  high  that  it  wasn't 
long  until  he  broke  the  bank.  Thereupon  he  returned  the 
money  I  had  loaned  him,  for  he 
had  an  abundance. 

"Of  course,  after  such  a 
streak,  more  drinks  followed, 
and  Sancho  developed  into  an  ai- 
dent  spiritualist.  He  had  a  thirst 
for  everything  at  the  bar,  and 
became  so  boisterous  that  the 
barkeep  chipped  in.  He  told  us 
we  were  a  bad  pair,  and  that 
he  didn't  like  our  tricks.  As- 
serting that  I  was  a  four-flush 
and  my  chum  a  jack-full,  he  said 
he  wouldn't  stand  for  any  one 
raising  rows  and  Racquets  in  his 
house.  Much  as  we  would  like 
to  have  stayed,  he  ordered  us  to 
leave. 

"  I  could  see  he  was  out  of 
Patience,  and  as  some  barkeeps 
have  a  penchant  for  knocking 
down,  I  arranged  to  protect  my- 


self.  There  was  an  Old  Sledge  behind  the  door  and  I 
determined  to  use  it  on  him  if  necessary.  But  just  as  I 
was  about  to  draw  it  toward  me  Sancho  yelled  '  Skat!' 
and,  without  lingering  to  rubber,  we  both  dropped  out, 
giving  the  door  a  slam,  for  we  espied  two  policemen  at 
the  rear  entrance. 

"  Fearing  we  were  candidates  for  the  lockup,  we  took 
to  our  heels.  We  had  gone  only  a  short  distance  when 
Sancho  stopped  suddenly. 

"  '  I  can't  go  the  pace,'  he  said,  in  a  breathless  treble. 
'  My  Props  have  given  out  and  I'm  all  in.' 

"  '  It's  your  age,'  I  suggested. 

"  '  No,'  was  his  candid  reply.  '  I've  filled;  that's  the 
trouble  —  I've  drank  too 
many — hie — highballs  ! 
Don't  mind  me.  I've  been 
up  against  this  game  be- 
fore. In  the  morning  I'll 
— hie — have  to  ante  up 
ten  dollars  or  so  —  the 
usual  penalty ;  and  then — 
hie — honors  will  be  even. 
But  you — hie — had  best 
play  safe.  There's  no 
reason  why  both  of  us 
should  be  nipped.  Look ! 
Hie  —  here  come  those 
Bobbies !  Pull  out  as  fast 
as  you  can!' 

"  I  hated  to  desert  him 
in  his  misery,  but  there 
was  wisdom  in  his  sug- 
gestion, so  I  took  a  short 
cut,  by  dodging  a  hedge 
and  skirting  a  pool,  and 
got  away. 

"When  I  was  sure  I 
was  a  winner  in  the  race, 
I  thought  to  Catch-the-ten 
Thirty-one  and  be  Safe-at- 
home  in  Newmarket  to- 
morrow. But  I  soon  de- 
cided to  renounce  that 
plan  and  jame  here  in- 
stead to  put  up  for  the 
night.  They're  a  pack  of 
strippers  at  that  other 
hotel,  and  I  have  a  score 
to  settle  with  them. 

"Heigho!  I'm  as  stiff  as  an  Old  Maid,  and  I'll 
wager,  when  it  comes  to  a  showdown,  counting  the  gift 
to  my  friend  and  what  I've  spent,  I'm  out  Five  Hundred. 
Yet  I'm  not  broke.  I  still  have  a  Five  and  Ten  and  then 
some,  and,  late  as  it  is,  if  any  one  wishes,  I'm  willing  as 
ever  to  try  my  hand  at  a  card  Speculation.  Because  of  a 
little  hard  luck  I'm  not  going  to  cut  the  cards  out  of  my 
list  of  pastimes. 

"  Really,  while  I  don't  like  to  Brag,  to-night  marks 
the  first  time  I  was  ever  beaten.  It's  some  Consola- 
tion to  know  that  I  could  establish  a  case  against  that 
waiter.     Possibly,  if  it  came  to  a  suit,  I  could  win  on 


ANOTHER  CAUSE  FOR  DIVORCE. 

The  habit  of  arranging  hubby's  tie  on  the  street. 


points.    But  what's  the  use  chipping  out  good  money 
after  bad  ? 

"  Here,  Barkeep!  To-night  I  have  the  last  call.  Be- 
fore closing  and  barring  the  door,  give  us  all  a  '  nightcap.' 
Mine  will  be  a  split.  No  reneging,  boys!  'According 
to  Hoyle,'  this  time  it's  on  me — The  Joker." 

Stem  Necessity. 

iC  ¥  SAW  you  riding  in  the  park  yesterday,"  she  said. 

*  "  My  physician  has  ordered  me  to  ride  for  ex- 
ercise." 

"  I  judged  from  your  expression  that  you  weren't 
doing  it  for  fun." 

The  Advantage 

of  Reading. 

"OEG PARDON,  sir," 
^^  said  the  weary 
hobo,  as  he  stood  at  the 
farmhouse  door,  "  but 
might  I  sleep  in  your  barn 
to-night?  I  haven't  had  a 
roof  over  my  head  for  ten 
days." 

"  I  congratulate  you," 
said  the  kindly  farmer. 
' '  That  is  a  splendid  thing. 
I  have  just  read  in  one  of 
my  ten -cent  magazines 
that  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  to  the  delicate, 
highly  strung,  easily 
k  n  0  c  k  e  d-u  p  individual 
the  advantages  of  sleep- 
ing in  the  open  air  are 
enormous.  Pallid  cheeks 
take  on  a  ruddy  hue,  colds 
are  unknown,  nerves  are 
forgotten,  and  irritability 
becomes  a  phase  of  the 
past.  A  small  plot  and  a 
little  perseverance  are  the 
only  necessaries,  and  thft 
result  is  assured.  You 
are  very  welcome  to  the 
use  of  my  potato-patch, 
and  my  sky  is  at  your 
disposal." 


No  Danger  Whatever. 

66  Co  THE  grand  jury  has  indicted  your  father  foi 
*^     violating   the    anti-rebate   law  ?     I    hope    they 
won't  send  him  to  jail." 

"Oh,"  the  beautiful  heiress  replied,  with  splendid 
confidence,  "  there  isn't  any  danger  of  that.  Pc^pa  is  no 
fool.  He  has  made  all  arrangements  to  prove  that  the 
rebates  were  obtained  by  the  office-boy  while  he  was 
suffering  with  a  brain-storm." 


•¥T  IS  always  best  to  know  a  person  thoroughly  before 
marrying  him  or  her.    This  is  an  absolute  preventive. 


The  Pet  Flea. 

QEf  fleas  have  been  introduced 
^  on  the  continent  to  some  ex- 
tent, and  in  some  families  have 
supplanted  the  dog,  having 
wormed  their  way  into  the  affec- 
tion and  anatomy  of  every  mem- 
ber. 

They  are  easily  fed',  very 
lively  and  affectionate,  and 
almost  human  in  their  intelli- 
gence. 

It  is  not  well  to  start  with  an 
old  -flea.  Secure  an  infant  of 
good  breed  and  bring  him  up 
yourself.  In  a  short  time  he  will 
become  greatly  attached  to  you. 

He  should  be  kept  in  the 
house  during  the  cold  weather, 
but  on  warm,  sunshiny  days  he 
can  go  out  for  a  good  jump. 
In  case  the  wind  blows  have  a 
suitable  blanket  for  him  to  wear. 

Do  not  permit  your  flea  to  go 
out  alone.  He  might  be  per- 
suaded to  go  off  with  some  dog, 
and  you  would  never  look  into 
his  eyes  again. 

If  possible,  see  that  your  flea 
has  three  good  meals  a  day. 
He  will  be  better  for  it.  Also 
keep  water  where  he  can  take  ?. 
drink  when  necessary.  Many 
fleas  are  born  with  a  ^errible 
thirst. 

Examine  him  occasionally  to 
see  that  he  is  in  good  condition. 
If  he  wags  his  tail  freely  you 
may  know  he  is  all  right. 


TOM   MASSO.N. 


A  Point  in  Ethics. 

a  C'OME  men  and  women  have 
a  different  way  of  saying 
the  same  thing  when  they  are  looking  for  houses  to  live 
in,"  remarked  the  real-estate  agent. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?"  inquired  the  listener. 

"  For  instance  :  The  man  asks  how  far  it  is  from  a 
church  and  how  near  to  a  saloon  ;  while  the  woman  asks 
how  near  it  is  to  a  church  and  how  far  from  a  saloon. 
Now,  why,"  concluded  the  agent  reflectively,  "  don't  they 
merely  ask  what  distance  it  is  from  each  of  these  places  ?" 

The  listener  took  the  question  home  with  him  to  ask 
his  wife  about  it. 


SOUND   OF  NO  CONSEQUENCE. 

Girl — "  I  want  a  yard  of  ribfran." 

Merchant — •'  Shall  I  give  you  some  ot  this  loud  green  ribbon?" 

Girl — "Don't  make  any  difference  ;  it's  fur  a  deaf  woman." 


A  LAS  !"  confessed  the  penitent  man,  " 
*"  weakness  I  stole  a  car-load  of  brasi 


What  Might  Have  Been. 

in  a  moment  of 
irass  fittings." 
"  In  a  moment  of  weakness  ?"  exclaimed   the   judge. 
"  Goodness,  man  !  what  would  you  have  taken  if  you  had 
yielded  in  a  moment  when  you  felt  strong  ?" 


Effect  of  Jealousy. 

(<  IT  is  such  a  good  joke  on  the  Pitsburgs,"  says  the  first 

'         lady. 

"What  is  ?  That  they  are  on  the  verge  of  a  separa- 
tion ?"  asks  her  friend. 

"  Indirectly,  yes.  You  know,  each  of  them  has  en- 
gaged a  private  detective  to  watch  the  other,  and  day  be- 
fore yesterday  their  two  detectives  put  in  the  whole  after- 
noon following  them  in  an  auto  while  they  were  riding  in 
another  one.  It  cost  them  forty  dollars  apiece  to  learn 
that  they  had  taken  an  auto  ride  together." 

Electric. 

ttf\ii,  what  will  bring  that  matchless  light 

^-^     To  your  dear  eyes  ?"  said  I. 
"  A  mat«hless  light?     Why,  sparking,  sir  I"    • 
The  maiden  made  reply. 


An   Old   Salt's  Observations 


AIN'T  he  calm,  though  !"   they  said  about  a  man. 
"  Was    he    hurt    in    th'    accident  ?"    I   asked. 
"  No,"  says  they  ;   "  but  some    of  his  friends 
was."     An'  I  had  to  go  away  to  laugh. 

I'd  rather  be  jest  me,  Obed  Burgee,  master 
of  the  Lyddy,  than  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  If  I  don't  run 
my  ship  to  suit  the  people  they  jest  snigger,  say  I'm  a 
fool  an'  run  along.  But  when  she  didn't  run  her  kingdom 
so 's  to  suit  'em  they  didn't  snigger  not  a  bit.  They 
chopped.  An'  it  was  her  neck  they  chopped.  She  died 
of  it. 

There  was  a  mighty  affectionate  married  couple  on 
my  ship  one  v'yage.  "  I  tell  you,"  the  husband  says  to 
me,  "  that  I  owe  my  professional  success  to  her."  "  What's 
your  business  ?"  I  asked  then.  "  Why,  I'm  a  doctor,"  he 
replied.  "  How  was  it  that  she  helped  you  ?"  I  asked 
then.  "  She  started  up  free  cookin'-schools,"  he  an- 
swered.    An'  I'm  still  a-wonderin'  what  he  meant. 

I  lived  next  door  to  a  philosopher  last  winter.  "  Ain't 
you  goin'  to  clean  th'  snow  off  your  sidewalks  ?"  I  asked 
of  him.  "  Thought  I'd  wait  a  while,"  he  answered. 
"  How  long  you  goin'  to  wait  ?"  I  asked  him.  "  Thought 
I'd  wait  about  two  months,"  said  he.  "  But  that'll  be 
spring,  an'  there  won't  be  no  snow  to  clean  off,"  I  says 
angrily.  "  That's  what  /was  thinkin',"  says  that  philoso- 
pher. 

There's  some  folks  can  find  things  to  criticise  any- 
where an' everywhere.  "  What,"  says  th' old  sailor  when 
we  was  discussin'  of  th'  Panama  canal,  "  would  happen  if 
th'  tides  in  th'  two  oceans  should  happen  to  come  differ- 
ent ?  Say  Atlantic  was  low  an'  Pacific  high.  Why,  th' 
old  Pacific  'd  jest  rush  through  into  th'  Atlantic.  Then 
s'pose  some  fool  critter  shut  th'  locks.  Why,  then  New 
Jersey  an'  Great  Britain,  they'd  be  drownded  out  along 
with  everything  in  east  America  and  west  Europe,  Asia 
and  Africa.  While  east  Asia — th'  Chinese  would  have 
ten  million  extry  miles  of  territory  for  th'  other  nations  of 
th'  world  to  quarrel  over."  That  same  man  would  tell  a 
feller  that  \yas  a-goin'  to  be  hanged  in  ten  min- 
utes not  to  spend  his  money  for  a  chew,  on  th' 
ground  that  it's  th'  thrifty,  savin'  folks  without 
bad  habits  that  gits  along  best. 

A  woman  who  was  born  as  misshapen  as  she 
makes  herself  with  corsets  an'  such  truck  would 
commit  suicide  from  pure  shame  about  her  figger. 
I  passed  Jim  Brown  two  weeks  ago,  when 
he  was  walkin'  in  th'  road  behind  a  mule-team, 
an'  forgot  to  nod  to  him.  This  mornin'  I  passed 
him  ag'in,  when  he  was  ridin'  in  a  carriage,  an' 
I  took  off  my  hai  an'  waved  it  real  cordial  like. 
I  wonder  why  ? 

Ain't  it  funny  about  women  that  flirt  ?  One 
of  'em  '11  stay  awake  all  night  thinkin'  about  th' 
man  that  wouldn't  wink  back  at  her,  while  th' 
chap  that  fell  plumb  in  love  at  first  sight  won't 
git  so  much  as  an  extry  snort  as  she  cuddles 
down  an'  goes  to  sleep. 

Here's  a  precept  that  a  passenger  flung  at  me 


after  his  wife  had  threatened  to  git  a  divorce  because  he 
had  seen  somethin'  on  th'  horizon  that  he  said  was  a 
cloud  an'  she'd  declared  it  was  an  iceberg.  It  had  turned 
out  to  be  a  cloud.  "  Never  marry  a  woman  who's  in 
love  with  you,"  he  says  to  me,  "  'cause  she'll  expect  too 
much,"  he  says.  "  Never  marry  one  who  ain't,"  he  added, 
"  for  like  enough  she'll  fall  in  love  with  some  other  man 
later."  Then  he  went  into  th'  smokin'-room  an'  told  th" 
steward  to  bring  him  a  Scotch  high-ball. 

I  went  ashore  in  a  foreign  port,  an'  th'  people  was 
givin'  a  humty-roodle-doo  in  honor  of  th'  king.  "  Why  ?" 
I  asks.  "  'Cause  he's  licked  ev'ry  other  nation  within 
reach  of  him,"  says  a  native,  "  put  down  forty-six  revolu- 
tions an'  a  dog-fight,  fooled  all  th'  other  countries  of  th' 
earth  in  diplomassy,  caught  all  th'  criminals,  cured  all  th' 
sick,  cheered  th'  unhappy,  wrote  a  historical  novel  that's 
had  a  bigger  sale  than  '  Eben  Holden,'  solved  th'  servant 
problem,  squared  th'  circle,  found  th'  philosopher's  stone, 
straightened  out  th'  currency  muddle,  done  away  with 
tariff  arguments,  reconciled  Tom  Piatt  an'  Richard  Croker, 
drove  an  eight-hoss  team  with  th'  reins  in  his  teeth  an'  a 
flag  in  each  hand,  broke  th'  record  for  th'  runnin'  long- 
jump,  an'  learned  th'  Bible  so's  he  can  recite  it  backward 
with  his  eyes  shut  an'  a  pebble  in  his  shoe."  "  Mercy  on 
us  !"  says  I.  "  He's  a  great  king.  Ain't  his  people  happy, 
though  ?  But  what  makes  hint  look  so  kind  of  worried  ?" 
"  Oh,"  says  th'  man  that  was  a-talkin'  to  me,  "  that's  be- 
cause he  wants  th'  queen  to  go  to  th'  seashore  this  sum- 
mer, an'  she  says  she's  goin'  to  th'  mountains."  "Can't 
he  make  her  go  where  he  wants  her  to  ?"  I  asked. 
"Make   her?"  says    th'    man.     "Why,  she's    his    wife!" 

"  Oh  !     says  I.  edward  Marshall. 

The  Upset  Price, 

Autoniobilist — "  Well,  how  wuch  do  you  consider  your- 
self damaged  ?" 

Fanner  Brown — "  Wa-al,  two  hundred  dollars  is  my 
upset  price." 


RESPECTFULLY   SUGGESTED. 
Why  not  build  some  of  the  Carnegie  libraries  to  represent  a 
white  elephant  ? 


A  Good  Price  for  an  Old  Hat 


By  Emmctt  C.   Hall 


THERE  is  a  lot  of  fun  made  of  southern  'crack- 
ers,'"the  man  who  travels  for  a  Boston  shoe 
house  remarked,  as  he  settled  himself  comfort- 
ably in  the  smoker  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigar, 
"but  in  my  rambles  through  Dixie  I  have  come  across 
one  or  two  that  would  have  made  a  Connecticut  farmer 
green  with  envy.  Tliere  is  a  dry  humor  about  them,  too, 
derived  from  their  Scotch  ancestors,  that  is  more  rare  in 
New  England. 

"  I  remember  one  old  fellow  who  stepped  on  the  train 
as  it  was  passing  through  a  small  Arkansas  town.  The 
train  hadn't  stopped,  tlie  engineer  seeing  there  were 
no  women  folks  waiting  on  the  platform.  The  old 
fellow,  who  was  long  and  lanky  and  carried  a  hollow- 
chested  carpet-bag,  had  strolled  along  behind  the  train 
for  a  while,  and  then  climbed  aboard.  It  was  about  dark, 
and  he  flopped  down  in  a  seat,  opened  the  window,  put 
his  head  near  to  it  and  prepared  to  go  to  sleep. 

"What  had  attracted  my  attention  had  been  his  hat 
— the  one  he  wore  when  he  boarded  the  train.  It  was  a 
black  '  slouch,'  about  a  yard  across,  and  new.  His  first 
move  on  taking  his  seat  had  been  to  remove  this  roof, 
place  it  carefully  in  the  consumptive  bag,  and  substitute  a 
battered  affair  that  looked  as  though  it  might  have  been 
at  the  siege  of  Vicksburg. 

"  'Wise  old  duck;  don't  propose  to  get  that  new  lid 
spoiled  this  trip,'  I  thought. 

"  Presently  the  conductor  sauntered  into  the  car,  bor- 
rowed a  chew  of  tobacco  from  a  man  farther  up,  and 
came  on  to  where  the  old  farmer  was  sleeping.  He  evi- 
dently hated  to  disturb  him,  for  he  looked  at  him  for  some 
time  and  sighed.  Then  he  braced  himself  and  shook  him 
by  the  shoulder. 

"  '  Ah'll  have  to  ask  yo'  foh  yo'  ticket,  suh,'  he  said  in  a 
gentle  voice. 


HIS   FAR-OFF  ANCESTOR. 

Robber — "  Neighbor,  judging  from  that  air  picter  on  the  wall,  you  come  from  a  regu 
lar  fighting  stock,  eh  ?" 

Mr.  a.  Tremble — "  Yes  ;  but  I'm  afraid  I've  come  too  far  from  them." 


"  The  old  fellow  let  out  a  bass  snore,  but  did  not  open 
his  eyes. 

"  '  Pahdon  me,  suh,  but  yo'll  have  to  wake  up,'  the  con- 
ductor said  firmly.  '  Ef  yo'  had  put  yo'  ticket  in  yo'  hat- 
band it  wouldn't  have  been  necessary.' 

"Still  the  old  fellow  did  not  stir,  and  I  and  the  con- 
ductor came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  was  trying  to  work 
the  old  game  of  simply  staving  off  an  accounting  till  his 
station  was  reached,  when  he  would  be  satisfied  to  be  put 
off.  The  conductor  looked  across  at  me  with  an  apolo- 
getic air. 

"  '  Yo'  see,  suh,  that  Ah  have  done  everything  Ah  could 
to  wake  him  up  gentle  .'''   he  asked,  and  I  nodded. 

"He  then  carefully  took  a  large  brass  pin  from  his 
coat  and  inserted  it  to  a  depth  of  about  half  an  inch  in 
the  old  farmer's  shoulder,  at  the  same  time  slipping  his 
other  hand  under  the  tails  of  his  coat.  He  was  evidently 
preparing  for  emergencies. 

"When  that  pin  went  in,  the  old  fellow  gave  a  yell 
that  had  certainly  been  left  over  from  Pickett's  charge, 
and  gave  his  head  a  tremendous  jerk  which  sent  his  old 
hat  flying  out  of  the  window  into  a  swamp  we  were 
passing. 

"  'Thought  some  one  of  them  Bradley  boys  had  stuck 
a  knife  in  me,'  he  remarked  in  a  good-natured  tone. 
'  Hope  Ah  didn't  disturb  none  of  yo'  ginlle;«^«  ?'  he  added, 
looking  about. 

"  'Yo'll  have  to  pahdon  ine  foh  wakin'  yo'   up  that-a- 

way,'  the  conductor  said,  '  but  Ah  ain't  got  yo'  ticket  yet.' 

"The  old  man  reached  up  for  his  hat. 

"  '  Whar  in  hell  is  my  ole  hat  ?'  he  demanded,  feeling 

of  the  top  of  his  head  with  both  hands,  as  if  he  expected  it 

to  be  hidden  in  his  hair. 

"  '  Ah'm  afraid   yo'  yanked   it  outen  the  window,'  the 
conductor  said  sorrowfully  ;  '  but  encourse,  the  company  '11 
buy  yo'  another,    it    bein'    some- 
ways  my  fault.' 

"  '  Is  she  plum  gone  ?'  the  old 
fellow  demanded,  a  look  of  dis- 
may spreading  over  his  face. 

"'She  sho'  is — fell  right  in 
Blackgum  swamp,'  (he  conductor 
assured  him. 

"  '  What  am  Ah  goin'  ter  do  ?'  • 
the  old  fellow  asked  helplessly. 

"'Ah  done  tole  yo'  the  com- 
pany'd  buy  yo'  a  new  one,'  the 
conductor  assured  him.  '  Yo' 
just  make  a  claim  an'  Ah'll  get  it 
'proved  ;  but  Ah  got  to  go  now, 
we'll  be  at  Smith's  Crossin'  in 
'bout  fifteen  minutes,  an'  Jedge 
Smith  tole  me  last  week  his  wife 
was  goin'  to  get  on  to-night,  so 
Ah'll  have  to  ask  yo'  again  tonyo' 
ticket.' 


"  '  But  my  ticket  war  in  the  sweat-band  of  that  thar 
hat,  an"  she's  plum  gone,'  the  old  fellow  announced 
tragically.  The  conductor  stood  in  blank  dismay  for  a 
minute,  then  called  the  brakeman  for  consultation. 

"  '  Whar  was  yo'  goin'  to  ?'  he  asked  tlie  ticketless  one. 

"  '  Gwine  ter  Little  Rock  ter  see  my  daughter,'  was 
the  reply. 

"  '  Reckon  yo'  have  to  pay  yo'  fare  in  cash,  then,'  the 
conductor  announced  judicially. 

"  '  But  Ah  done  paid  my  fair  to  Little  Rock  once,  an', 
anyhow.  Ah  ain't  got  but  eighty-five  cents,  nohow,'  the 
other  protested. 

"  The  whistle  sounded  for  Smith's  Crossing,  and  the 
conductor,  with  a  hunted  look  on  his  face,  hurried  away 
to  help  the  Smith  women-folks  aboard.  Presently  he 
returned. 


"  '  Yo'  paid  one  fare  to  ride  to  Little  Rock,  an'  yo'  have 
therefo'  got  a  right  to  ride  ;  an'  mo'over,  yo'  say  yo'  ain't 
got  no  fo'  dollars  and  a  half  to  pay  cash  fare,'  ho  said. 
'  Ah  been  an'  talked  with  Bill,  the  engineer,  yo'  know, 
an'  he  'lows  we  is  bound  to  take  yo'  on.  'Tain't  likely 
none  them  frogs  an'  catfish  in  Blackgum  swamp  will  pick 
up  yo'  ticket  an'  steal  a  ride  with  it.  Got  a  chaw  about 
yo',  suh  ?' 

"The  'chaw'  was  handed  over,  and  the  old  fellow 
slept  the  sleep  of  innocence  until  we  pulled  into  Little 
Rock.  Then  he  extracted  his  new  '  slouch '  from  the 
unenthusiastic  appearing  carpet-bag,  and,  looking  at  me 
with  twinkling  gray  eyes,  winked  deliberately. 

"'And  I  thought  I  was  over  seven,"  I  remarked  to 
myself,  but  what  I  said  to  that  old  codger  was  'Come  out 
and  have  something.'" 


A  Peep  into  the  Future 


IN  TIME  the  possession  of  wealth  became  such  a  com- 
mon  thing  that  it  was  no  longer  a  distinction.  So- 
ciety, indeed,  was  graded  thus  :  The  rich  at  the  bottom, 
the  moderately  poor  on  a  higher  level,  the  poor  almost  at 
the  top,  and  the  very  poor  above  all. 

It  became  a  common  saying — "  It  is  a  disgrace  for  a 
man  to  die  poor." 

Monev  was  so  easy  to  get  that  it  was  argued  that  no- 
body had  the  right  to  refuse  to  amass  his  share,  thus  re- 
lieving his  brethren  of  the  necessity  of  caring  for  more 
than  their  portion. 

History  here  began  to  repeat  herselt  as  usual. 
John  D.  Rockefeller  the   fiftieth  was   pilloried    in   the 
public   prints,  scathingly   arraigned  on   the   platform,  bit- 
terly assailed   in   the    pulpit,  and   mercilessly  mocked  m 
cartoons. 

It  was  alleged  that  he 
was  endeavoring  to  be 
poorer  than  any  other  man 
in  the  world. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  he 
would  say.  "It  just 
comes  natural  to  me  to 
be  poor  and  get  poorer 
every  day.  It  is  natural 
selection — it  isn't  individ- 
ual effort  at  all." 

At  last  some  sociolo" 
gists  and  scientists,  by 
dint  of  patient  research 
into  his  genealogy,  found 
that  among  his  ancestors 
who  existed  prior  to  John 
D.  Rockefeller  first  there 
had  been  two  or  three 
who  were  naturally  poor. 

"It  is  atavism,"  was 
the  verdict.  "  It  is  an  in- 
stance of  sleeping  heredi- 
tary characteristics  awak- 
ening after  the  lapse  of 
years."  you, 


Thereafter  the  criticism  was  milder,  yet  to  the  day  of 
his  death  John  D.  the  fiftieth  was  pointed  out  as  both  a 
curiosity  and  a  good  example,  because  he  was  the  poorest 
man  on  earth.  w.  d.  nesbit. 

Well,  Well!] 

((  INDEED,"  the  lecturer  went  on  in  a  quizzical  way, 
"I  believe  I  am  justified  in  asserting  that  nine 
women  out  of  ten  practically  propose  to  the  men  they  be- 
come engaged  to.  As  a  test,  I  would  ask  all  married 
men  in  the  audience  whose  wives  virtually  popped  the 
question  to  them  to  arise." 

There  was  a  subdued  rustle  in  the  auditorium,  and  in 
the  dense  silence  that  ensued  could  be  heard  sibilant  femi- 
nine whispers  in  concert,  "Just  you  dare  to  stand  up  !" 


IN  PIONEER  DAYS. 
Frontier  schoolmaster  (thinking  a  friend  is  playing  a  joke  on  him) — "  Oh,  I  know 
You're  just  stringing  me." 


The  Ladder  of  Life 


I  FIRST  met  Freddy  when  he  was  five  years  i 
"  Freddy,"  I  said,  "  what  are  you  going 


old. 
_  to  be  when 
you  grow  up  ?" 

"I  guess,"  replied  Freddy,  "'at  me '11  be  a  p'lice- 
man." 

Freddy  was  a  manly  little  chap  of  ten  years  when  I  saw 
him  again. 

"  My  young  friend,"  I  inquired,  "does  your  ambition 
still  lean  toward  the  police  force  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  the  youngster  ;  "  I'm  going  to  be  an 
artist  and  paint  pictures.     An  artist  gets  a  lot  of  money." 

I  met  Freddy  when  he  was  twenty  years  old.  He  was 
a  stalwart  youth  and  had  just  been  graduated  from  the 
high  school. 

"  Fred,"  I  asked,  "  what  road  have  you  chosen  for 
life's  journey  ?" 

*' I  have  selected  the  road  to  literary  fame,"  he  replied. 
•'  I  shall  write  poems  and  essays,  and  the  world  shall  pal- 
pitate with  eagerness  to.  read  my  productions.  I  shall 
become  rich  and  famous." 

I  left  Freddy  to  struggle  with  his  ambitions,  and  slowly 
followed  Father  Time  to  the  evening  of  my  life.  One  day 
as  I  walked  feebly  along  the  street  a  voice  hailed  me  and 
an  automobile  stopped  at  the  curb. 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul,"  I  e.xclaimed,  "  if  it  isn't  Fred- 
erick 1" 

"  Yep,"  cried  a  portly  man  of  forty  odd  years.  "  I'm 
just  trying  my  new  machine.     Get  in  and  take  a  ride  ?" 


"  No,  thank  you,  Frederick,"  I  replieO.  "  By  the  bye, 
you  are  looking  exceedingly  prosperous.  Are  you  a  po- 
liceman, an  artist,  or  an  author  ?" 

"  Oh  ! "  exclaimed  Frederick,  laughing  heartily,  "  I  gave 
up  all  those  youthful  fancies  and  started  in  to  make  some 
money.     Haven't  you  heard  ?     Why,  I'm  a  plumber  !" 


PERRINE  LAMBERT. 


Fate  of  a  Meddler. 


DOUBTFUL. 
Jones — "  See  the  wicked  artist  painting  on  Sunday." 
Jenks — "  He  might  do  worse." 
Jones  {Scrutinising picture) — "  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that. 


IN  due  time  the  women  came  into  authority  and  power 
in  the  courts,  and  the  first  culprit  haled  before  them 
for  punishment  was  a  man  who  had  spent  his  life  advo- 
cating dress-reform  for  the  fair  sex. 

"  Wretch  that  you  are  !"  decreed  the  stern  lady  who 
presided  on  the  bench,  "  the  decision  of  the  court  is  that 
for  the  term  of  your  natural  life  you  shall  be  permitted  to 
wear  none  but  waists  that  button  up  the  back — and  that 
you  be  compelled  to  button  them  yourself." 

Solved. 

((  I  HAVE  solved  the  servant  problem,"  said  the  woman 
with  the  compressed  lips  and  the  determined  eyes. 
"  You  have  ?"  asked  the  other  person. 
"  I  have.     When  things  get   to  such  a  pass  that  the 
hired  girls  want  three  days  out  in  the  week,  want  the  use 
of  the  parlor  every  other  night  and    Sunday  afternoon, 
want  me  to  play  soft  love-songs  while  they  are  entertain- 
ing their  beaus  in  the  kitchen  on  other  evenings,  insist  on 
the  privilege  of  dictating  what  groceries  and  meats  I  shall 

buy,  claim  the  right  to  wear 
my  clothes  and  bonnets,  dic- 
tate whether  or  no  I  shall 
keep  a  dog  or  a  child,  suc- 
ceed in  having  my  house  dec- 
orated and  furnished  to  ac- 
cord   with   their   tastes,  and 

Well,  when  things  are 

as  they  are,  I  am  just  " 

"  Not  going  to  keep  serv- 
ants any  longer  .'" 

"  Better  than  that.  I  am 
going  to  hire  out  as  a  servant 
and  enjoy  life  !" 

An  Inventive  Genius. 

Subbubs — "  What  makes 
him  so  unpopular  V 

Borrow  —  "  He  fixed  his 
lawn-mower  so  you  have  to 
drop  a  nickel  in  the  slot  to 
make  it  go." 

Proof. 

(( IWHAT  reason  have  you 
"  for  thinking  that  the 
thief  who  entered  your  house 
was  a  locksmith  by  trade  ?" 
asked  the  detective. 

"  Why,  I  saw  him  make  a 
bolt  for  the  door,"  said  tlie 
victim  of  the  robbery. 


The  Music  of  Wagner 


THE  CURTAIN  had  gone  down  on 
the  first  act  of  a  strenuous  opera 
by  Wagner,  and  the  man  in  the 
aisle  seat  looked  around  to  see 
what  sort  of  a  neighbor  he  had. 
It  was  a  man,  and  a  sad-eyed 
one,  with  indications  of  the  rural 
rooster  in  his  plans  and  specifi- 
cations. He  was  disposed  to  talk, 
too,  and  with  an  introductory 
cough  or  two  he  began. 

"  Wagner,"  he  said,  pronounc- 
ing it  the  way  it  looks  in  print, 
and    speaking    in     the    key    of 
"Hark    from    the    Tombs, ' ' 
"kinder  makes  me  feel   like  sheddin' tears.     'Tain't  a 
sniflfiy  style  of  music,  neither,"  he  added. 

"Not  exactly,"  ventured  the  man  on  the  aisle. 
"  Probably  it  is  because  you  are  of  an  emotional  temper- 
ament," he  ventured  still  further,  and  rashly. 

"  Mebbe  that's  got  something  to  do  with  it,"  admitted 
the  sad  one;  "  but  I  guess  it's  more  from  recollections." 
"  Madame  de  Stael  once  said  that  music  revives  the 
recollections  it  would  appease,"  ventured  the  man  again. 
"  Kind  of  a  case  of  the  hair  of  the  dog  bein'  good  for 
the  bite?"  responded  the  sad  one,  not  quite  certain. 
"  But  that  ain't  it.     I  know  what  does  it." 

"  Ah?"  in  a  distinct  tone  of  invitation  to  go  on  with 
the  story. 


-^^.?^^ 


POOR  GEORGE. 

Mrs.  Gruff — "  What  did  you  do,  George,  when  the  burglars  got  into  the 
house  ?" 

Mr.  Gruff — "  Do  ?  Just  what  they  told  me.  I've  never  had  my  own  way 
in  this  house  yet."  '  ' 


THE  BEST  OF  THE  SIX. 

Dolly  (the  young  author) — "  Uncle,  what  are  the 
six  best  sellers  out  your  way  )" 

Uncle  Neivrick  (of  Kansas) — "  Can't  say  ez 
there  are  six ;  but  when  there's  a  wind  we  folks  are 
purty  glad  if  we've  got  a  cyclone-cellar." 

"Yes.  You  see,  it  was  this  way:  When  I 
was  a  young  man  I  was  leader  of  a  brass  band 
in  an  Indiana  town,  an'  there  was  an  opposi- 
tion band  in  the  town  across  the  river.  Well, 
naturally  it  was  up  to  us  to  blow  it  off,  so  to 
speak,  in  a  band  contest,  an'  after  a  good 
deal  of  seesawin'  an'  sparrin'  for  points,  we 
challenged  the  other  band  to  a  blow-out,  as 
you  might  say.  They  took  us  up,  of  course, 
an'  for  three  months  we  practiced  so  hard 
that  the  White  Caps  threatened  us;  but  we 
armed  ourselves,  an'  kept  on  blowin'  to  beat 
the  band,  as  you  might  say,  every  night  in 
the  week  in  town,  an'  went  out  in  the  country 
on  Sunday.  Then  the  match  came  off,  an'  it 
was  the  biggest  time  in  music  circles  you 
ever  see.  The  opposition  had  been  puttin' 
in  as  much  hard  labor  as  we  had,  an'  it  was 
a  battle  of  giants,  so  to  speak.  We  was  nip 
an'  tuck  right  through  the  programme,  an' 
the  last  piece  was  to  decide  which  was  a  win. 
That  piece  was  one  of  Wagner's  best,  an'  I 
give  my  boys  notice  to  blow  for  all  they  was 
worth,  if  it  took  a  lung.  You  can't  do  justice 
to  Wagner  with  the  soft  pedal  on,  an'  he  calls 


for  something  besides  bammy  breezes  through 
a  horn.  The  other  side  played  first,  an'  then 
our  turn  come.  We  started  right  in  on  the 
jump,  like  a  Kansas  cyclone  broke  loose,  an' 
shoved  the  wind  in  till  it  bulged  the  horns, 
but  it  didn't  do  no  good."  And  the  former 
leader  sighed  like  a  hoarse  note  from  an  oboe. 

"  What  was  the  matter?"  asked  the  man 
on  the  aisle.  "Had  your  opponents  bought 
up  the  judges?" 

"No,  no;  that  wasn't  it."  And  the 
leadersighed  again.  "  You  see,  my  musician's 
was  tryin'  to  do  full  justice  to  Wagner  while 
they  was  knockin'  the  waddin'  out  of  the 
opposition,  an',  dem  my  gizzard!  if  they 
didn't  blow  their  horns  so  full  of  pieces  of 
lung  that  the  wind  couldn't  git  through  them 
at  all,  an'  we  lost  out  right  on  the  last  turn. 
We  busted  our  bass-drum,  besides.  Six  of 
the  boys  died  of  tuberculosis  of  the  remains 
before  the  year  was  out,  an'  I  give  up  the 
band  an'  left  the  state.  I  just  couldn't  stand 
it.     Now,  when  I  hear  Wag" 

But  the  curtain  went  up,  and  the  ex-leader 
was  too  much  of  a  musician  to  continue  the 
conversation.  williah  j.  lampton. 

At  the  Seashore. 

Gerald — "  Weren't  we  engaged  last  year?" 
Geraldine — "  I  presume  so,   if  you  were 
here  when  I  was." 


"  Say,  Katie,  wouldn't  yer  like  ler  have  some  o'  them  picters  let 
hang  up  if  yei  had  a  place  ter  hang  em  ?" 


HIGH  FINANCE  BEYOND  HIM. 

*'  Sam,  what  would  you  do  if  you  had  a  million  dollars  ?" 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd's  sake!  I'm  sho'  I  dunno  wot  I'd  do  ef  1  had  a  million  dollahs ; 
but  I  know  wot  I'd  do  et  1  had  two  dollahs.  I've  been  waitin'  two  yeahs  ler  git  mar- 
ried." 


The  Literary  Day. 

AN  ESSAY  on  "  The  Higher  Thought," 
A  poem,  "  Light  Divine  "; 
Some  strong  philippics  deftly  wrought 
On  "  Men  who  try  to  shine." 

A  few  critiques  upon  the  bards 

Who  fancy  they  are  "  It," 
And  then  some  questionable  yards 

Of  paragraphic  wit. 

And  though  some  of  these  things  were  bold. 

And  others  quite  intense, 
Out  of  the  lot  I  only  sold 

One  joke — price,  fifty  cents. 

EUGENE  GEARY. 

His  Promise  Fulfilled. 

65'VrOU    told   me,"   she   said   with   a   pout,    three 
*       months  after  their  marriage,  "  that  you  in- 
tended to  die  a  bachelor." 

"To  all  intents  and  purposes,"  he  sadly  replied, 
"  I  have  lived  up  to  my  declaration.  I  am  known  now 
merely  as  my  wife's  husband." 


An  Awful  Scare. 

nPHE  good  folks  down  at 
*       Oyster  Bay, 

They    had    an    awful 
scare. 
The  President's   clothes 
were  washed  away. 
And  there  was 


o 


Stealing  a  Multi-millionaire 

By  James  Raymond  Perry 


N  ONE  of  my  tours  of  inspection  tiirough 
the  state  penitentiary  I  was  attracted  by  a 
cheerful-lool<ing  prisoner  who  was  hum- 
ming, 

"The   mistaices  of  my   life   have    been 
many." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  a  realizing  sense 
of  the  error  of  your  ways,"  I  remarked,  pausing  in  front  of 
his  cell. 

"  Governor,  can't  you  get  me  out  of  this  ? "  he  asked 
with  a  grin. 

"You  don't  want  to  get  out.  Bill;  you  know  you 
don't,"  the  warden  said.  "  You  enjoy  yourself  too  much 
here." 

"  I  don't  make  myself  miserable  anywhere,  Mr.  Butler," 
answered  the  prisoner  ;  "  still,  governor,"  turning  to  me 
again,  "  notwithstanding  the  extreme  comfort,  not  to  say 
luxury,  which  I  enjoy  here,  and  the  many  pleasant  little 
attentions  shown  the  guests,  I  don't  think  I'd  decline  a 
pardon  if  you  should  offer  it  on  a  silver  salver  with  your 
best  compliments." 

The  prisoner's  tones  were  not  impertinent,  his  choice  of 
words  was  satisfying,  and  after  the  coarse,  dull  faces  I  had 
just  passed,  his  sunny  smile  and  cheerful  manner  were  a 
distinct  relief. 

"  What  is  he  here  for,  Mr.  Butler  ?"  I  inquired  of  the 
warden. 

"  Burglary,  your  Excellency." 

"  It  was  this  way,  governor,"  said  the  prisoner:  "you 
see,  I  intended  to  do  one  big  stroke  and  then  quit  the 
business  and  be  respectable.  Do  you  mind,  warden,  if  I 
tell  the  governor  .■■" 

•'  It's  for  the  governor  to  say,"  answered  Butler  ;  but 
from  the  warden's  tone  I  thought  he  hoped  I  would 
listen. 

"  Go  on,"  I  said. 

"  Thank  you,  governor,"  said  the  prisoner.  "  I'd  been 
in  the  business  some  time,  but  never  liked  it  overmuch, 
and,  as  I  say,  I  thought  I'd  make  one  good  haul  and  then 
quit  it  altogether  and  go  into  something  less  exciting  and 
not  quite  so  dangerous. 

"  Well,  you  know  old  man  Wolf— the  richest  man  in 
the  world,  ain't  he.' — I  guess  you  know  him,  governor  ; 
you  ought  to. " 

The  prisoner  was  doubtless  referring  to  a  fight  I  had 
waged  during  the  past  year  against  certain  very  wealthy 
and  very  corrupt  interests  in  the  state.  "  Yes  ;  I  know 
Wolf,"  I  said.  "  He  isn't  quite  the  richest  man  in  the 
world,  but  no  matter  about  that  ;  go  on  with  your 
story." 

"  Well,  my  plan  was  to  kidnap  old  man  Wolf  and  hold 
him  for  a  ransom — a  million  dollars.  I  suppose  he's  worth  a 
hundred  millions  and  could  spare  a  million  or  two  and  never 
miss  it.  Of  course  the  money  would  be  tainted,  but  men 
in  my  profession  can't  afford  to  be  too  particular.  I  rea- 
soned that  if  I  got  a  million  of  his  money  it  wouldn't  harm 


anybody — not  even  him,  considering  how  much  he'd  have 
left — and  it  might  do  me  a  heap  of  good  ;  among  other 
things,  make  an  honest  man  of  me.  So  you  see  my  motives 
were  good  in  the  main. 

"  I  studied  quite  a  spell  how  to  do  the  job  before  I  fi- 
nally decided  on  a  way.  The  chief  trouble,  of  course, 
would  be  in  kidnaping  the  old  fellow — getting  hold  of 
him.  That  done,  getting  the  ransom  wouldn't  be  much 
trouble.  '  You're  a  burglar.  Bill,"  I  said  to  myself  ;  '  bur- 
glary's your  profession,  kidnaping  isn't  ;  but  if  you're 
going  into  the  kidnaping  business  carry  your  burglar 
methods  with  you.  Break  into  old  man  Wolf's  house 
some  night,  chloroform  him  in  bed,  and  then  make  off 
with  him  the  same 's  you  would  with  any  other  loot. 
That's  the  way  to  do  it.  Make  use  of  your  experience  in 
your  trade  whenever  you  can.'  That's  what  I  said  to 
myself,  and  that's  what  I  decided  to  do — ^just  walk  in  and 
steal  him  like  any  other  piece  of  furniture. 

"  I'd  need  some  one  to  help  me,  of  course.  One  man 
couldn't  do  a  job  like  that  alone.  There  was  a  fellow 
named  Bill  Evans — you've  heard  of  Bill  Evans,  warden — 
who  was  making  quite  a  stir  in  the  profession  about  that 
time.  He  was  an  older  man,  and  we  young  fellows  in  the 
business  looked  up  to  him  as  being  at  the  head  of  the  pro- 
fession. We'd  heard  great  stories  about  Bills  coolness 
and  daring  under  trying  circumstances.  Well,  I  wished 
mightily  I  could  get  Bill  Evans  to  go  in  with  me  on  the 
job.  I  felt  certain  'twas  the  sort  of  job  that  would  appeal 
to  Bill.  But  I  didn't  know  Evans  except  by  reputation — 
had  never  seen  him,  even — and  of  course  I  didn't  know 
his  address.  We  don't  have  our  addresses  put  in  the 
directories,  you  know,  governor.  Getting  Bill  was  out  of 
the  question,  then,  so  I  decided  to  ask  Mike  Brady,  a 
likely  young  dare-devil  with  lots  of  horse  sense,  to  go  in 
with  me.  Mike  jumped  at  the  chance,  and,  not  to  make 
too  long  a  story  of  it,  one  November  night,  in  the  dark 
of  the  moon,  with  a  good  wind  blowing  and  not  a  star 
out,  Mike  and  I  crawled  into  a  second-story  window  of 
old  man  Wolfs  house.  We'd  learned  which  room  the  old 
man  slept  in,  and  we  went  straight  to  his  bed.  We  could 
hear  the  old  fellow  breathing,  and  in  a  jiffy  we  had  the 
chloroform  over  his  mouth  and  nose. 

"  '  I  wonder,'  whispered  Mike,  '  if  all  millionaires  slape 
wi'  their  breeches  on."  And,  sure  enough,  when  we 
hauled  the  old  fellow  off  the  bed  we  found  he'd  got  his 
pants  on.  There  was  lots  of  loot  in  the  room  we  might 
have  taken,  but  we  didn't.  We  had  about  all  we  could 
lug,  and,  besides,  we  knew  if  we  got  a  million  we  wouldn't 
need  any  of  the  stuff  we  were  leaving  behind. 

"  It  was  a  tug  getting  the  old  fellow  down  stairs  and 
out  the  back  door  without  waking  any  one,  and  it  took 
time,  because  we  had  to  be  so  careful  about  it.  But  we 
finally  got  him  out  and  down  the  road  a  ways  to  an  auto- 
mobile we'd  hired.  We  carried  him  to  my  house  and 
carted  him  up  into  an  attic  bedroom,  where  I'd  planned 
to  keep  him  till  the  ransom  was  paid, 


"  It  was  along  in  the  morning,  sometime,  before  the  old 
fellow  came  to  his  senses.  Mike  and  1  were  ready  with 
our  guns  if  he  tried  any  tricks.  He  seemed  dazed  at  first, 
but  after  two  or  three  minutes  his  eyes  began  to  roam 
round  the  room,  and  then  he  sat  up  in  bed  suddenly. 

"  '  Better  stay  quiet  right  where  you  are,  Mr.  Wolf,'  I 
said,  my  gun  pointed  at  him.  '  We  don't  want  to  harm 
you  and  don't  intend  to,  but  you  must  keep  quiet  and  be- 
have yourself  You  see,  Mr.  Wolf,'  I  said,  '  we've  kid- 
naped you  and  are  going  to  demand  a  ransom.  Your 
liberty  "11  cost  you  a  million  dollars,  but  what's  a  million 
dollars  to  you  ? — a  mere  nothing  !  We're  going  to  write 
a  letter  to  your  family,  and  we 
think  you'd  better  nut  a  note  in 
with  it  advising  theii  to  comply 
with  our  demands.' 

"  The  old  fellow — come  to  see 
him  in  daylight  he  didn't  look  so 
old — stared  while  I  was  talking, 
and  when  I  finished  he  haw-hawed 
right  out. 

"  '  Well,  if  this  don't  beat  the 
devil !'  he  howled.  'Why,  you're 
two  of  th  e'.  darnedest,  freshest 
kids  I  ever  ran  across.  Say,'  he 
said,  '  do  I  look  as  if  I  was  worth 
a  hundred  millions  ?  Do  I  look 
like  old  man  Wolf?  Well,  of  all 
the  jokes  this  is  the  darnedest  ! 
Why,  say,  young  fellers,  do  you 
know  I  broke  into  old  man  Wolf's 
house  last  night  and  was  just  get- 
ting ready  to  make  off  with  the 
stuff  when  I  felt  one  of  my  spells 
coming  on  —  fainting  spells  —  I 
have  'em  every  now  and  then  ; 
mighty  bad  things,  too,  for  a  man 
in  my' business.  I'd  just  got  in- 
to some  of  the  old  man's  pants 
that  I  found  hanging  in  the 
closet  when  it  came  on  me.  I 
suppose  I  must  have  tumbled 
over  onto  the  bed,  and  you  kids 
came  in  and  found  me  there. 
And  you  e.\pected  to  get  a  million 
dollars  for  me!  Ha,  ha,  ha! 
Why,  say,  boys,  do  you  know  who 
I  am  ?  I'm  Bill  Evans — Burglar 
Bill,  they  call  me.'  " 

"  And  was  it  for  stealing  this  Burglar  Bill  that  you 
were  convicted  and  sentenced  ?"  I  asked,  as  the  genial 
prisoner  concluded  his  highly  probable  tale. 

"Well,  partly,"  he  answered.  "You  see.  Bill  had  on 
old  man  Wolfs  pants  when  we  took  him,  and  we  took  the 
pants.  There  was  a  watch  and  some  papers  in  the  pants 
and  Bill  Evans  said  Mike  and  I  might  as  well  have  them  ; 
we  hadn't  got  anything  else  that  was  worth  much.  Oh, 
Bill  was  cute.  'Twas  the  watch  and  papers  that  con- 
victed Mike  and  me. 

"  Say,  governor,  couldn't  you  manage  a  pardon  ?  The 
warden  will  vouch  for  my  good  behavior.     Besides,  if  we 


hadn't  lugged  off  Bill  that  night  the  chances  are  he'd  have 
lugged  away  a  lot  of  loot.  We  really  saved  old  Wolfs 
property  for  him,  and  we  ought  not  to  be  kept  in  prison 
for  that.  Can't  you  give  me  a  pardon,  considering  the 
circumstances  ?" 

"  I'm  afraid  not  to-day,"  I  said  ;  and  as  we  proceeded 
down  the  corridor  there  floated  after  us,  a  shade  less 
cheerful  than  before,  the  song, 

"  The  mistakes  of  my  life  have  been  many." 

"  He's  a  happy  rogue,"  said  the  warden. 


Brood  over  your  troubles  if  you  want  to  hatch  disaster. 


TWO  CAN. 

•'  These  nuts,"  remarked  the  owl,  "  are  tough  ; 
Digest  them  very  few  can. 
One  really  cannot  eat  such  stuff." 

The  answer,  mild,  was,  "Toucan." 


Good  Plan. 

((  JU  Y  DEAR,"  said  the  distressed  wife  to  her  husband, 

'•  the   roast  is  burned  to  a  crisp,  and  1  am  at  my 

wits'  end  to  know  what  to  do.     Here  we  have  Professor 

Anlizem  to  dinner,  and  he  " 

"  That's  easy  enough,"  interrupted  the  ingenious  hus- 
band. "  When  I  serve  the  roast  I  will  get  him  into  a  dis- 
cussion of  the  proportion  of  carbons  and  proteins  and 
other  chemical  things  in  it,  and  he  will  become  so  engrossed 
in  explaining  it  that  he  won't  notice  what  he  is  eating." 


Fiction  is  simply  a  case  of  making  a  love-story  end  happily. 


CANDID. 
Jack — "  How  is  it  you  lavish  so  much  aflection  on  those  dumb  brutes?" 
Edna — '•  For  want  of  something  belter." 


Progress. 

jUAN,"  said    Motor,   as  he  opened 

the  throttle  and  shoved  the  lever 

over  to  the  last  speed-notch,  "  has  indeed 

acco'Tplished   many   things.     Under 

tlie  spell  of  this  sport's  exhilaration  I 

realize,  as  never  before,  that  we 

are  indeed  but  little  lower  than 

the  angels." 

'•  Smash  !    Zzzzzzzrip  !"    said 
the  machine. 

"By  George!"  said  Motor 
twenty  seconds  later,  "  I  was 
wrong,  after  all.  We're 
on  a  level  with  them 
now  and  will  be  above 
them  in  another  sec- 
ond." 

Foreign  Titles. 

AiiiUior  —  "But  why 
do  you  call  your  lecture 
'Radium'  when  you  don't 
mention  that  article  at 
any  stage  of  the  eve- 
ning's talk  ?" 

Lecturer  —  "Well, 
knowing  the  fondness  of 
the  Americin  people  for 
foreign  titles,  I  made  one 
bold  stroke  for  popular- 
ity by  choosing  a  title  as 
foreign  as  possible  to  my 
lecture." 


What  Punctured  It. 

llTHAT  awfully  cold  night,"  went  on  the  explorer,' 
slept  on  a  newfangled  something  they  called 
pneumatic  mattress,  made  out  of 
rubber — blowed  up  like  a  football, 
you  know,  only  a  different  shape 
— that  is,  I  went  to  sleep  on  that 
thing,  but  woke  up  in  the  middle 
of  the  night  flat  on  the  ground, 
with  all  the  ai.-  escaped.  You  see, 
the  weather  had  turned  even  cold- 
er in  the  night,  and  the  goose- 
pimples  that  came  out  on  my  body 
had  punctured  the  rubber. 
What  ?" 

Why  She  Sulked. 

Lovey  (on  waking  in  the  morn- 
•"&) — "Dovey,  I  dreamed  that  I 
wasn't  married  to  you.  Do  you 
ever  dream,  Dovey,  that  oo  iddent 
married  to  me  ?" 

Dovey  (sleepily)  —  "  No-o-o  ! 
It's  been  years  and  years  since  I 
had  a  really  pleasant  dream." 

Dovey  is  wondering.why  Lovey 
didn't  speak  to  him  again  that  day. 

14 


The  Lining. 

I      EVERY  cloud  has  a  silver  lining.     The  man  with  insom- 
a  nia  doesn't  keep  other  folks  awake  with  his  snoring. 


STRUCK  OUT. 

Timid  Henry — "  I  seen  a  feller  with  a  wooden  leg  to-day,  Hattie  ;  it  must  be  terrible 
to  have  a  wooden  leg." 

Hattie — '<  Ob,  I  don't  know  ;  it  isn't  as  bad  as  having  a  wooden  arm." 


The  Remnants  Were  There. 

lAMES  CARDINAL  GIBBONS,  of  Baltimore,  the  high- 
est  Catholic  prelate  in  America,  has  a  keen  sense  of 
humor.  Recently  he  was  the  guest  of  a  layman  friend, 
Frank  Murphy,  in  Roland  Park,  Baltimore's  most  beauti- 
ful residence  suburb.  In  the  Murphy  home  is  a  butler  of 
Mrs.  Partingtonian  proclivities,  and  on  the  church  digni- 
tary's former  informal  visits  to  the  Murphy  home  its  mis- 
tress had  been  under  the  necessity  of  reminding  the 
obtuse  servant  that  the  distinguished  guest  was  to  be  ad- 
dressed always  as  "  your  eminence." 

On  the  present  occasion,  when  the  cardinal  rang  the 
bell,  the  man  of  impassive  countenance  answered,  re- 
ceived the  card,  and,  turning,  announced  to  Mrs.  Murphy, 
"  Please,  mum,  your  remnants  has  came." 

No  one  enjoyed  the  joke  more  thoroughly  or  laughed 
more  heartily  at  it  than  did  the  genial  cardinal  himself. 

Where  It  Stopped. 

A  BOVE  one  of  the  elevators  on  the  ground  floor  of  the 
Empire  building  at  Rector  Street  and  Broadway 
there  is  a  sign  which  reads  :  "  No  stop  above  the  eleventh 
floor."  Recently  a  rustic  Jerseyman  with  his  wife  was  in 
the  building  looking  for  some  way  to  get  up  stairs,  and 
the  sign  caught  his  eye. 

"  Look  at  that  sign,  will  you,  Mary  ?"  he  said,  pointing 
at  it  as  he  held  Mary  by  the  arm. 

"  Yes,  I  see  it,  Henry,"  she  replied  patiently  ;  "  what 
of  it  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  Wait  till  I  ask  the  man."  And 
I  e  went  up  to  the  dispatcher.  "  .Say,  mister,"  he  in- 
quired, "  if  the  dern 
thing  don't  stop  above 
the  'levenlli  floor, 
how  fer  does  it  go  ?" 


Southern  Slavery. 

THE  Louisville  drummer  had  been  reading  the  political 
news,  and  after  making  a  few  incongruous  remarks 
on  sectional  differences  and  other  things  not  germane  to 
the  issue,  he  turned  to  the  drummer  from  Maine  selling 
spruce-gum  by  the  car-load  to  make  gum  shoes  out  of. 

"  Did  you — or  any  ot  you  Yankees — know  that  they 
are  still  selling  '  niggers  '  down  south  ?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  we  don't  know  it,  because  it  is  not  so,"  replied 
the  spruce-gum  drummer. 

"  Well,  I  say  yes,"  insisted  the  first  speaker.  "  I  saw 
a  man  in  a  Kentucky  town  not  two  weeks  ago  sell  a  col- 
ored boy." 

"  Come  off',"  protested  the  Maine  man. 

"  I  tell  you  I  did,"  the  other  persisted.  "  And  that  is 
not  all,"  he  continued  with  confidence  ;  "  I  made  inquiry 
and  he  has  been  doing  it  right  along  for  ten  years.  1 
reckon  he  must  have  sold  a  dozen  or  two  'niggers'  in 
that  time.     Maybe  more." 

This  sort  of  testimony  was  having  .its  effect  and  the 
Maine  man  became  more  interested. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  he  said.  "  I  have  a  brother  who 
runs  a  Republican  newspaper,  and  I'll  give  the  facts  to 
him  and  let  him  work  them  up  into  campaign  material." 

"  Well, "  and  the  Louisville  drummer  drew  his  chair  up 
close  and  became  very  confidential,  "  the  man's  name  is 
Jenkins,  and  he  is  a  coal-dealer.  He  has  darky  drivers 
for  his  carts,  and  I'll  be  blamed  if  he  doesn't  sell  half  of 
one  of  those  drivers  every  time  he  sells  a  load  of  coal,  and 
he  has  been  doing  it,  as  I  have  said,  for  ten  years.  Sells 
them  by  the  bushel,  too — fifteen  cents  a  bushel.  Now 
what  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

The  Maine  man  pushed  back  his  chair  and  scorned  to 
make  reply.  w.  j.  lampton. 


WHO'S  GOING   TO   GET   HURT   IN   THIS  DUEL? 
Mr.  Hippo — "You  don't  vi-ant  to  get  so  far  off  that  I  can't  see  you.'' 
Mr.  Monk — "  No  ;  and  I  don't  want  to  get  so  neax  that  you'll  fall  on  me,  either." 


Life's   Little   Inadequacies 


WE  HEAR  much  of  life's  little  ills.  They  are  the 
petty  miseries  for  which  there  seems  to  be 
neither  remedy  nor  compensation.  They  are 
almost  causeless,  so  trivial  are  their  sources, 
and  they  operate  in  such  eccentric  orbits  that  neither  their 
goings  nor  their  comings  may  be  calculated  or  foreseen. 
Life's  little  inadequacies  may  be  similarly  described.  A 
little  attention  will  make  clear  what  we  have  in  mind. 
For  the  big  wrongs  we  humans  suffer  at  the  hands  of 
each  other,  our  own  natures  and  the  law  provide  reme- 
dies which  we  are  in  the  habit  of  considering  adequate. 
This  Henry  James  circumlocution  is  necessary  if  we  are 
to  proceed  with  this  matter  with  anything  like  accuracy 
and  thoroughness.  We  say  we  are  in  the  habit  of  consid- 
ering the  common  remedies  for  the  big  wrongs  adequate. 
In  point  of  fact,  there  are  no  adequate  remedies  for  any 
wrongs,  big  or  little.  When  a  ruffian  murders  us  we  go 
to  law  and  have  the  murderer  hanged.  That  seems  to  be 
a  pretty  adequate  averaging  up  of  the  grief,  and  the  world 

GRETCHEN  BREAKS  IN  ON  A  STOLEN  NAP. 


I.    "  uliuck  ;  chuck!  chuck!" 


2.   '-Vat  hungry  chici.s  !" 


looks  upon  the  transaction  as  closed. 
The  law  is  satisfied,  justice  is  upheld, 
society  is  safeguarded — the  whole 
thing  seems  to  be  balanced  and  trued 
to  a  standard.  But  what  it  all 
amounts  to  is  this,  that  we  remain 
murdered,  and  take  no  interest 
whatever  in  the  exercises  incident 
to  leveling  up  tlie  experience  and 
passing  round  an  equal  portion  of 
calamity  to  our  murderer. 

Nevertheless,  as  the  world  goes,  the  mountainous  ills,  the  bulbou  . 
and  violent  encroachments  on  our  rights,  the  invasions  upon  our  prop- 
erties, have  remedies  at  law.  But  see  what  an  army  of  little  offenses 
war  upon  our  peace  and  comfort  every  day  against  which  we  are 
weaponless. 

For  example  :  we  belong  to  the  tribe  known  as  commuters.  A  Ger- 
man historian  (Geschichtegewohnlichschreibtegesellschaften,  or  soine- 
thing  like  that)  has  lately  put  forth  the  interesting  theory  that  the  com- 
muters are  the  lost  Ten  Tribes  of  Israel.  We  think  the  German  is 
ri^ht.  But  that  is  aside  from  the  purpose.  As  we  go  and  come,  aim- 
ing at  a  certain  train  each  morning  and  evening,  we  naturally  fall  in 


with  the  same  lost  Israelites  more  or  less.  Now  some  of 
these  people  are  grateful  to  the  eye  ;  they  have  a  cheerful, 
healthy  look.  (We  are  speaking  in  comparative  terms. 
No  commuter  could  look  absolutely  cheerful.)  Some  are 
less  or  more  cheerful.  These  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  day 
by  day.  You  never  speak  to  them.  The  lost  tribes  are 
very  reserved  and  offish  about  speaking  to  each  other. 
We  might  discourse  at  length  on  the  advantage  of  begin- 
ning each  day's  work  with  these  morning  glances  at  pleas- 
ant appearing  people. 

Consider  what  a  shock  it  is  to  a  sensitive,  particular 
sort  of  a  person  to  have  to  begin  the  day  with  matin  views 
of  a  different  sort  of  people.  For  example  again,  we  run 
in  with  a  man  every  morning  who  wears  a  toothpick  be- 
hind his  ear.  This  to  us  is  intolerable.  For  a  while  we 
did  not  mind  it  ;  but  the  thing  grew  on  us.  Try  as  we 
might  to  avoid  the  toothpick  person,  we  could  not.  There 
he  was  before  us,  the  first  man  we  saw,  every  day.  If  we 
missed  our  train,  he  missed  his.  If  we  got  an  earlier  train, 
something  had  started  him  ahead  of  the  schedule.  And 
always,  there  was  that  toothpick  behind  his  ear.  He 
would  come  into  the  car  and  sit  in  front  of  us,  and  work 
his  jaws  and  make  that  toothpick  pendulate  and  quiver 
and  gesticulate.  We  have  come  to  have  the  fiercest  kind 
of  a  malice  for  this  man.  We  speculate  by  the  hour  on 
the  kind  of  man  he  must  be.  We  conclude  that  he  is  a 
wife-beater,  and  then  recoil  at  the  thought  that  any  woman 
would  have  him.  Then  we  figure  that  he  is  a  robber  and 
a  thief,  but  robbers  and  thieves  are  not  necessarily  lost 
souls,  and  we  are  satisfied  that  our  toothpick  man  is  a 
lost  soul.  We  often  try  to  imagine  what  the  views  of  a 
man  must  be  who  will  wear  a  tooth- 
pick behind  his  ear,  and  then  berate 
ourself  for  being  misled  into  think- 
ing that  such  a  man  has  a  brain. 

It  is  one  of  life's  little  inadequa- 
cies that  the  law  provides  us  with 
no  weapon  against  this  man.  We 
would  not  want  to  murder  him,  for 
we  would  hate  to  be  known  as  the 
man  who  murdered  a  person  who 
wore  a  toothpick  behind  his  ear. 
We  could  never  take  any  pride  in  a 


2.  The  sleeper- 
get  a  little  rest?" 


'  Say,  can't  you  let  a  man 


homicide  of  that  character. 
When  we  murder  a  person  we 
want  it  to  be  a  person  of  stand- 
ing, a  person  in  our  oun  class, 
a  person  we  can  vouch  for.  We 
would  never  stoop  to  murder 
anybody.  We  have  thought 
the  mitter  over  by  the  hour,  and 
we  have  come  to  feel  helpless  in 
the  face  of  this  human  to  nhpick. 
We  do  not  want  to  commit  as- 
sault and  battery  upon  him.  We 
cannot  throw  him  out  of  the  car 
window.  We  suppose  we  must 
stand  him  and  his  toothpick  to 
the  end  of  our  commutership. 

p.  w. 

An  Optimistic  Thought. 

li/HEN  a  jealous  man  who 
doesn't  amount  to  anything 
shoots  somebody  wlio  doesn't 
amount  to  anything  for  being  too 
attentive  to  a  woman  who  doesn't 
amount  toanything,  why  should 
anybody  who  does  amount  to 
anything  get  excited  about  it .'' 


THE  INVENTORY  TH.Vl"  CHEERS. 
Mrs  Jones — "Whatever  have  we  got  ter  be  thankful  fer.  Silis?" 
Mr.  Junes —  "  Wa-al.  th'  mortgage  hez  bin  frirecliised  on  th'  farm,  so  we  hain't  got 
ter  pay  no  more  interest  an'  taxes  ;  tli'  autermobile  's  bin  attached  fer  debt,  so  we  hain't 
got  ter  worry  alK»nt  that  no  more  ;  Johnny  Smith  hez  thrown  over  our  daughter  Sal,  so 
we  won't  have  him  ter  support.  Great  Scott,  Maria !  we  've  got  everything  ter  be 
thankful  fer." 


Her  Offense. 

THE  despondent  damsel  had  been  apprehended  in  the 
very  act  of  drinking  carbolic.  The  speedy  work  of 
skilled  physicians  saved  her  life.  The  physicians  after- 
ward admitted  tliat  they  had  saved  it.  An  officious  con- 
stable arrested  her  on  tlie  ground  of  attempted  suicide. 
Then  a  wise  man  present  interfered  and  said, 

"  I  object  to  this  high-handed  procedure.  If  this  per- 
son is  to  be  seized  on  any  charge,  it  should  be  as  a  vio- 
lator of  the  pure-food  law." 

"  Hosv  so  ?"  exclaimed  every  one  in  unison. 

"  Because  she  was  putting  acid  inside  'er." 

Wliereupon  the  crowd  released  the  woman  and  with 
one  accord  hanged  the  author  of  the  pun. 

The  Usual  Way. 

The  tourist — "  Were  there  not  a  lot  of  people  killed  in 
a  recent  wreck  near  the  station  we  just  passed  ?" 

The  conductor  —"\^s\  forty  killed  yesterday.  But 
how  <lid  you  know  there  h  id  been  a  wreck  .'" 

The  tourist  —  "A  natural  inference.  As  we  passed 
I  noticed  a  gang  of  workmen  installing  safety-signal  de- 
vices." 

This  Rapid  Age. 

Fair  bargaineer — "I  want  a  pair  of  shoe-strings, 
some  hairpins,  half  a  dozen  handkerchiefs,  and  a  belt- 
buckle.  I  have  to  catch  a  train  in  fifteen  minutes,  and 
I  aiTi  in  a  great  hurrj-." 

Floor-walker  —  •  •  Take  the  elevator  to  the  eleventh 
floor  for  the  shoe-strings.  The  hairpin  department  is  on 
the  second.  You  will  find  the  handkerchiefs  in  the  ex- 
treme rear  of  the  seventh  floor  and  the  belt-buckles  are 
in  the  basement." 


At  the  Minstrels. 
(( IIAR.  TAMBO,"  remarks   the  middleman.  "I  have  a 
very  important  question  to  propound  this  evening. 
Can   you   tell  me  why  a  financially-embarrassed  man   re- 
sembles a  canine  ?  ' 

"No,  Mr.  Centerpiece;  Ah  can't  tell  yo',"  says  Mr. 
Tamlio.  "  Why  am  a  fnancially-'barrassed  man  laik  a 
kanine  ?" 

"  Because,"  replies  the  middlem.in,  "  he  never  has  any 
money  in  his  pants.  I  guess  that  will  hold  you  while  our 
charming  tenor,  Mr.  Caruso  Highsee,  sings  the  beautiful 
and  pathetic  ballad,  '  Her  Raven  Locks  Have  Turned  to 
Gold.'" 

Mr.  Highsee  rises  majestically,  puts  one  hand  behind 
him,  hangs  his  thumb  over  a  vest-button,  and  begins, 
"  The  old  farm-house  is  waiting  " 

"Look  yere  !"  shouts  Mr.  Tambo.  "Jes' suppose  de 
f  nancially  -  'barrassed  man  wears  pants  wid  checks  in 
'em  Y' 

Ingenuous  Lad. 

«<  CO  you  want  a  position  ?"  asked  the  business  man  ol 
the  bright  -  faced  youth.  "  What  can  you  say  in 
your  favor  ?" 

"Sir,"  replied  the  earnest  lad,  "  I  was  given  letters  ot 
recommendation  by  our  pastor,  by  my  Sunday-school 
teacher,  by  the  president  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U. ,  and  by  my 
grammar-school  teacher,  and  " 

"  There,  that  will  do.  I  am  afraid  we  have  no  place 
for  " 

"  But  I  tore  their  letters  up,  sir.  I  thought  that  the 
best  recommendation  would  be  to  work  a  week  and  then 
you  could  get  a  line  oil  my  future  speed." 

"  Good  boy  !     You're  engaged."  '■ 


(( 


It's  a   Bir'rd" 

By  Joel  Benton 


IT  HAPPENED  a  generation  and  more  ago.     And  it's 
a  true  relation. 
It  was   in  the  days  when  the   predatory  tramp  as 
we  now  know  him — of  frequent  criminal  propensity — 
did  not  exist.    The  road  peripatetic  who  preceded  him 
was  commonly  one  who  traveled   peacefully  to  find  work, 
and  there  are  those  still  living  who  remember  him. 

Of  this  faded  type  were  Mike  and  Pat.  They  had  recently 
arrived  from  the  Emerald  Isle,  and  had  come  to  America 
for  worldly  advantage.  Several  jobs  of  a  temporary  sort 
they  had  already  found,  and  when  one  was  finished  they 
started  out  on  the  rustic  highway  to  hunt  for  another. 

This  was  not  always  easy  to  find,  and  on  a  cer'iiii 
summer  day  they  arrived,  sore-footed  and  hungry,  after  a 
long  and  fruitless  walk,  at  a  thrifty  country  village.  Some 
joint  instinct  prompted  them  to  pause  antl  rest  there 
on  the  road  lawn,  under  a  shady  tree.  Tliey  were  not  far 
from  the  best  hotel  and  were  near  homes  of  the  well-to-do. 
It  was,  perhaps,  eleven-thirty  by  the  clock.  Out  of  the 
chimneys  came  rich  and  inviting  odors  of  meals  soon  to 
be  served,  but  they  had  no  possible  idea  of  where  they 
could  get  even  a  bun  or  a  biscuit  — for  they  were  not  beg- 
gars, and  were  unfinanced. 

Their  plight  was  getting  strenuous,  if  not  to  say  seri- 
ous.    They  could  sing  of  dinners  the  familiar  song, 
"  Thotl  art  so  near  and  yet  so  far,"  but  not  get  one. 
Pat  said,  "  Bego'rra,  Mike,  I'm  hungry." 
"  And  faith,"  says  Mike,  "  and  so  am  I." 
Then  thej-e  were  long,  meandering   thoughts  between 
them.     Mike,   in   particular,  kept  up  a  deep  meditation, 
when,  after  a  considerable  pause,  he  brightened  up  and 
said,  "  Pat,  I've  got  it." 


Seeing  a  small  water  turtle  move  out  ot  the  grass 
which  had  been  its  place  of  concealment,  disturbed,  no 
doubt,  by  unwelcome  neighbors,  Mike  ran  forward,  and, 
throwing  his  handkerchief  over  it  and  picking  it  up,  said 
again,  "  Pat,  I've  got  it." 

What  he  had  got  was  an  idea.  "  Pat,"  said  he,  "you 
stay  here  until  I  whistle  and  call  ye." 

There  was  no  doubt  Mike  was  hungry.  He  made 
good  time  in  reaching  the  hotel  bar-room.  Sitting  there, 
of  course,  was  a  group  of  three  or  four  leisurely  country- 
men who  have  all  the  time  there  is  for  gossip  and  discus- 
s-on.    No  such  place  ever  lacks  such  a  group. 

Mike  strided  up  to  the  bar,  and  dropping  the  turtle  on 
it  out  of  his  handkerchief,  said, 

"  And  what  sort  of  a  bir'rd  is  this  ?" 

"  It  is  no  sort  of  a  bird  at  all,"  said  a  forward  one  of 
the  group.      "  Why  do  you  call  it  a  bird  ?" 

"  It's  a  bir'rd  ;  it's  a  bir'rd  !"  said  Mike. 

"  And  it  isn't  a  bird,"  said  anothei. 

"  You  sassy  spalpeen,"  said  Mike,   "  it's  a  bir'rd  !" 

Then  the  others  got  up.  with  animation,  and  took  a 
hand,  or  a  tongue,  in  the  dispute. 

They  all  sliouted  that  it  was  not  a  bird,  that  it  was  a 
turtle,  and  that  Mike  was  a  fonl.  But  Mike  didn't  care 
for  majorities,  and  only  asseverated  in  his  richest  brogue 
all  the  louder,  "  It's  a  bir'rd  ;  its  a  bir'rd  !" 

The  scene  was  rather  long  drawn  out  and  became  very 
nearly  tumultuous.  Meaniime  Pa  had  m  ived  ne  irer  to 
the  hotel,  and  Mike  and  Pat  were  now  really  hungry. 

Very  soon  a  member  of  the  group  moved  up  closer  to 
Mike  ami  yelled,  "  It's  a  turtle  !"  But  Mike  kept  the  air 
hot  with,  "Ye  can't  fool  me  ;  it's  a  bir'rd  ;  it's  a  bir'rd  !" 


The  aoY — "They  ain't,  ain't  they?     Say,  are  you  deaf?" 


THE  GAMELESS  AM.\TEUR. 
Farmer — "Hey,  you  !     There  afn't  no  shootin'  here  1" 


O  '^J  ^  t  H  V  \^ 


"  But  how  are  you  going  to 
prove  It  ?"  said  one  of  his  oppo- 
nents. 

"  Why,"  said  Mike,  "  I'll  leave 
it  to  the  very  first  man  who  comes 
in.  And  I'll  bet  you  two  dinners 
it's  a  bir'rd  !" 

•'  Very  well,"  said  they  all  ; 
"  we'll  do  it." 

Then  Mike  went  out  the  door 
and  softly  whispered.  Pat  came 
up  at  once,  and  was  instantly 
posted  by  Mike  as  to  the  momen- 
tous decision  impending,  when 
they  immediately  entered  the 
hotel. 

The  whole  assemblage  gath- 
ered about  the  bar  in  due  order, 
and,  with  judicial  solemnity. 
Mike  was  of  course  the  inquisitor. 

"We've  met,  stranger,"  sa\s 
Mike,  "  to  find  out  what  this 
thing-  is.  No  matter  what  who 
or  an5'body  thinks,  we  differ,  and 
have  agreed  to  leave  it  to  you. 
Tell  us,  and  you'll  have  a  good 
dinner." 

"Why,  that's  too  easy,"  said 
Pat.     "  It's  a  bir'rd,  sure,  and  nothing  else." 

There  was  a  crestfallen  crowd  when  this  decision  came, 
but  two  hungry  men  had  a  good  dinner,  and  something 
more.  The  landlord  gave  them  a  job,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  Mike  and  his  native  wit  and  resourcefulness  that  he 
kept  him  in  service  about  the  hotel  and  grounds,  and 
afterward — when  he  moved  to  another  town — until  the 
end  of  his  days.  Although  he  left  the  rural  village  very 
soon,  to  take  a  bigger  hotel  in  one  of  the  midway  cities  on 
the  Hudson,  Mike  went  with  him,  and  soon  got  there  ilie 
reputation  of  being  a  unique  character.  "  He's  a  bir'rd, 
sure,"  they  all  said. 

A  Relief  Movement. 
((  CIR,"  said  the  aggrieved  music-teacher  to  the  philan- 
thropist  who   lived   in  the  apartment  beneath  him, 
"  you  agreed  to  pay  me  for  all  my  time  provided  that  I  de- 
voted it  only  to  the  pupils  you  should  send  me." 

"I  did,"  acknowledged  the  philanthropist  pleasantly. 

"You  gave  me  to  understand  it  was  in  connection  with 
your  work  along  certain  lines  of  relief." 

"  That  is  trL' 

"Yet  the  only  pupils  you  have  sent  me  are  armless 
people,  who  cannot  possibly  use  a  piano." 

"  I  know.  I  may  have  omitted  to  mention  that  I  was 
doing  this  for  my  own  relief." 

A  Parent's  Difficulties. 

*•  W^''^'^  ^^^  ^'°"  crying  for,  Berlie  ?" 

"  I  wish  I  had  a  little  boy  to  play  with  me." 

"  You're  too  big  now  to  cry  for  some  one  to  play 
with." 

"Well,  then,  get  me  a  wife." 


•       HIS   LAST  WORDS. 
The  turkey — "  I  hope  you  and  your  whole  darned  family  '11  have  indigestion!" 


Popular  Refrains  for  Family  Use. 

Model — "  Everybody  Works  but  Father" 

pVERYBODY  works  but  mother.     She  sits  around  all  day 
^     Reading  and  talking  nonsense,  passing  the  hours  away  ; 
Getting  up  stuff  on  Ibsen,  taking  in  guff  on  Shaw — 
Everybody  works  at  our  house  but  my  ma-maw. 

Everybody  works  but  brother,  sophomore  he  at  Yale  ; 
Nothing  to  do  all  day  long  but  just  keep  out  of  jail. 
T.ikii  J  a  course  in  yelling,  studying  to  be  a  "  sub" — 
Everybody  works  at  our  house  but  my  old  bub. 

Everybody  works  but  sister.     Sister 's  a  sort  of  Squidge, 
Morning,  noon  and  evening  playing  the  game  of  bridge. 
Breakfast,  dinner,  luncheon,  back  to  the  game  again — 
Everybody  works  at  our  house  but  Sister  Jane. 

Everybody  works  but  auntie.    She  spends  her  time  at  church, 
Talking  about  the  neighbors,  out  on  a  scandal  search  ; 
Fining  her  soul  with  worries  o'er  other  people's  biz — 
Everybody  works  at  our  house  but  my  .A.unt  Liz. 

Everybody  works  but  baby,  yelling  from  morn  till  night, 
Smashing  our  brand-new  china,  skinning  the  cat  on  sight ; 
Poking  his  mother's  eyes  out,  puUing  his  nurse's  nose — 
Everybody  works  at  our  house  but  pinky-toes. 

Nobody  works  but  father.     He  goes  to  town  each  day, 
Trying  to  earn  the  ducats,  family  bills  to  pay  ; 
Has  lu  walk  to  the  station,  dodging  the  butcher-man — 
Nobody  works  at  our  house  like  my  old  man. 

WILBERFORCE  JENKINS. 

In   Liquidation. 

BEDFORD,  Indiana,  has  a  murder  case  certainly  quali- 
fied to  provoke  showers  of  tears,  as  there  are  men- 
tioned  in   connection  therewith  a  man   named  Tanksley 
and  a  Miss  Rainey. 


The  An^cl  Child's  Lesson 


THE  penurious  parent  had  been  instructing  the  angel 
child  in  the  art  of  saving.  The  angel  child  had  lis- 
tened dutifully,  and  when  the  P.  P.  presented  it  with  a 
patent  savings-bank  the  A.  C.  agreed  to  put  all  the  nickels 
he  got  into  the  bank. 

At  the  end  of  a  week  of  persistent  begging  from  the 
other  members  of  the  family  the  A.  C.  gazed  into  the  pa- 
tent bank  and  discovered  that  he  had  four  dollars  and 
ninety  cents. 

"  Oh,  papa  !"  said  the  A.  C, 
erupted  with  smiles.     "  I  need 
have  the  required  five  dollars. 
boy  to  not  spend  them  one  by  one  as  I  used  to  do  ?" 

"  You  have,  my  child,"  replied  the  P.  P.  proudly,  "  and 
to  show  you  that  the  reward  of  economy  is  a  comfortable 
bank  account,  I  will  now  give  you  the  money  to  fill  your 
bank.  It  can  then  be  opened  and  your  money  placed  in 
the  big  bank  down  town." 

Saying  which  he  handed  the  A.  C.  two  nickels,  and  the 
little  one  danced  away  happy. 

"  This  only  goes  to  show,"  said   the  P.  P.  to  his  yoke 


its  dimpled  physiognomy 

only  two  more  nickels  to 

Have   I  not  been  a  good 


mate,  "  that  the  inculcation  of  right  ideas  cannot  begin 
too  soon  with  children.  It  is  merely  the  forerunner  of  a 
great  and  glorious  career  for  our  child  ;  and  I  feel  that  he 
will  look  back  upon  this  moment  in  his  after  years,  and 
remember  with  pride  the  fact  that  I  taught  him  the  first 
principles  of  good  citizenship." 

Having  gotten  which  sentiment  out  of  his  system,  the 
P.  P.  fell  to  perusing  the  financial  gossip  of  the  Evening 
Exciter.  ' 

And  meanwhile  the  angel  child,  having  pushed  the  two 
coins  into  the  bank,  gave  it  the  proper  twist  and  dumped 
the  contents  into  his  hat.  Then  he  proceeded  to  sneak 
around  the  corner,  gather  up  ten  or  fit'teen  of  his  alley 
acquaintances,  and  blow  them  off  to  soda,  candy,  ice- 
cream and  cubeb  cigarettes  at  the  nearest  confectionery, 
returning  home  with  an  empty  bank  but  a  full  stomach. 

Moral :  You  can't  teach  a  young  dog  old  tricks. 

JACK  APPLETON. 


IT'S  a  pretty  sight  to  see  a  girl  blush  when  she  really  has 
nothing  to  blush  over. 


THE  NAIVETE  OF  AKr. 
By  Jove,  Miss  Na^eby !  your  coloring  is  exquisite — superb.     I  wish  you  could  aftord  tu  have  me  paint  your  portrait." 


3| 


a  5     a 


-^ 

^ 
>» 


A  Si 

a  o 


_  ^j  -^ 

Sir 


S  =  2 


3?.| 


-^^  c#^' 


The  Caustic  Boarder. 

(( li/ELL,"  said  the  hotel  proprietor,  "  I  must  go  out  to 
ttie  race-traclc  this  afternoon  and  see  if  I  can  clean 
up  a  little  stake." 

"If  1  were  you,"  said  the  caustic  boarder,  "I  would 
stay  here  and  see  if  I  couldn't  clean  up  the  little  steak 
served  every  meal  at  this  tal>le.     It  sure  needs  it." 

Whereupon  the  proprietor  went  out  and  added  three 
dollars  for  extras  to  the  caustic  boarder's  bill. 

The  Inertia  of  Jones. 

««Vi;HAT  do  you  suppose  is  the  cause  of  Jones  getting 
on  in  the  world  so  slowly  ?" 
"  Pure  laziness.     That  man  would  actually  rather  pay 
rent  than  move." 


Nature  Study  versus  Geography. 

A  LL  the  wiles  known  to  pedagogy  being  exhausted  in  an 
effort  to  make  the  class  name  the  most  southern  cape 
of  South  America,  the  teacher  asked  disgustedly, 
••  What  do  cows  have  ?" 
A  hand  waved  frantically  in  her  face. 
"  Calves  !"  was  the  eager  reply. 

Logically. 

Nag^sby — "  They  tell  me  that  when  the  packers  find  a 
lot  of  beef  and  pork  offal  that  is  rapidly  approaching  the 
spoiled  stage  the  stuff  is  minced,  potted,  and  called 
chicken." 

^^'"SS^^y — "  That  is,  when  it  becomes  foul  they  label 
it  chicken." 


<( 


Business  Is  Business. 

OW'S  business  ?  '  I  said  to  a  butclier  I  met 
While  out  for  a  stroll  on  the  street. 
Well,  sometimes  it's  lougli,  but  by  chopping,"  he  said, 
"  I  manage  to  make  both  ends  meat." 


\\ 


I.Ul'LUE.NCK. 
Farmer  Backup — "I  wnnt  ten  cents'  wuth  o'  stamps." 
Aleck  Smart  (tke  new  cUrk] — "  What  denomination?" 
Farmer  Backup — "  I'm  a  Laptist ;   but  I  don't  know  as  it's  enny 
o'  your  business." 


I  spoke  to  an  author,  a  cheerful  young  chap, 

Whose  life  seemed  exceedingly  bright. 
"  How  goes  it?"  I  asked  ;  and  he  prompUy  replied, 
"  Oh,  everything  seems  to  be  write." 

"  You're  looking  quite  well,"  to  a  broker  I  said, 

Whom  I  sat  beside  in  a  car. 
"  Don't  take  any  stock  in  my  health,"  he  replied  ; 
**  I'm  feeling  away  below  par." 

My  tailor  I  met  on  a  prominent  street. 
'■  Good-morning  I"  I  said  ;  "  you  look  cute." 
"  \Miy  shouldn't  I,  pray,"  he  replied  with  a  smile, 
"  WTien  every  one  's  easy  to  suit  ?" 

"  Ah,  doctor,  good-morning  !    How  goes  it  with  you?" 

I  asked  with  a  smile  on  the  side. 
"  Oh,  I'm  going  along  in  the  same  old  way. 

Enjoying  bad  health,"  he  replied. 

I  said  to  the  man  who  makes  automobiles, 
•'  It  isn't  quite  proper  to  frown." 
"  I  know  it's  dead  wrong,"  he  replied  with  a  pout. 
"  The  fact  is,  I'm  all  broken  down." 

PERRINE  LAMBERT. 

Smoke  Rings. 

/CONSIDERING  how  long  ago  they  had  their 
last  re.d  scrap,  those  Cubans  seem  remark- 
ably little  out  of  practice. 

Germany,  says  a  foreign  dispatch,  has  become 
the  premier  bee  country  of  Europe.  That  buzz- 
ing in  the  K.iiser's  bonnet  is  now  explained. 

Not  much  use  bothering  with  spel'ing  re- 
form, just  when  the  Esperanto  congress  is  put- 
ting the  finishing  touches  on  a  brand-new  univer- 
s  .1  b.nguage. 

Love's  Answer. 

jj/^AN  you   cook,  darling  ?"  asked  her  fiancfi 

eagerly,  for  he  was  no  Croesus. 

"Can  1  cook  ?"  she  sneered.    "  Do  you  suppose 

I'd   be  silly  enough   to   marry  a  poor  clerk   if  I 

could  make  forty  dollars  a  month  and  my  board?" 


The  Scheme  of  the  Patent-medicine  Man. 

UE  arrived  in  the  town  at  four  p.  m.  He  had  until  six, 
a  sheer  stretch  of  two  hours,  to  devise  some  plan  by 
which  every  person  in  the  place  should  know  o(  the  merits 
of  the  celebrated  Quickem  and  Quillem  Pills.  But  two 
hours  was  ample.  He  had  time  to  spare.  By  six  o'clock 
dozens  of  violet-scented  notes  were  flying  to  as  many  pros- 
perous young  married  men  of  the  place.  The  notes  were 
identical  and  read  : 

"Dear    Mr. :  I   know  you   will  think   me  a  very 

dreadful  person,  but  I  am  going  to  yield  to  a  sudden  temp- 
tation and  write  you.  I  saw  you  on  the  street  yesterday. 
A  mutual  friend  told  me  your  name,  and  I  found  your  ad- 
dress in   the  directory.     If  you  think  you  would   care  to 

meet  me,  I  will  be  at this  evening  at  eight  o'clock. 

I  will  surely  be  there.  I  hope  you  will  not  disappoint  me. 
— Miss  D ." 

Did  the  scheme  work  ?  It  did.  By 
noon  the  next  day  three  wives  had  con- 
sulted their  lawyers  ;  another  went  home 
to  mamma.  Her  physician  is  treating  a 
bride  of  a  fortnight  for  hysteria.  T«o 
women  bought  horsewhips  at  a  harness- 
store  ;  two  others  purchased  pistols  at  a 
pawnshop.  One  married  man  went  to 
his  office  with  a  pair  of  black  eyes  and 
several  bumps  on  his  head.  The  tele- 
graph-office received  messages  signed 
"  Mother-in-law,"  of  which  one  read, 
"  Your  conduct  is  outrageous,"  and  an- 
other ran,  "  Villain,  meet  me  on  the  four 
p.  m.  train  to-day."  The  next  day  the 
patent-medicine  man  owned  up  that  he 
was  the  artificer  of  this  brilliant  scheme. 
He  seemed  to  be  proud  of  it.  Then  it 
was  his  victims'  turn.  They  had  but  two 
hours  to  accomplish  their  work.  But  it 
w'as  enough.  They  had  time  to  spare. 
At  six  p.  m.  a  gentleman  with  something 
of  the  feathery  aspect  of  a  bird  and  a 
subtle  flavor  of  tar  emerged  across  the 
town  line  in  a  northwesterly  direction  and 
hurried  into  a  thick  piece  of  woods  in  an 
earnest  spirit  of  exodus. 

Tommy  Gets  Informed. 

«  pAW  ?" 

"  Yes,  Tommy." 
"What  is  Roquefort  ?  ' 
"  Spoiled  cheese,  my  son." 
"  And  what  is  Limburger  ?" 
"  Spoiled  Roquefort." 


In  Racing  Terms. 

((  l-IE  liked  her  fairly  well,  but  never  dreamed  of  propos- 
ing until  he  first  saw  her  in  evening-dress." 
"  Won  by  a  neck,  I  suppose." 

Jersey  Wisdom. 

First  mosquito — "  Say,  Spiker  Bill,  king  of  the  drill- 
gang,  says  he  knows  a  place  where  even  fat  people  sleep 
without  covering  and  with  the  screenless  windows  raised 
to  the  limit." 

Second  mosquito — "  Say,  my  boy,  don't  you  know  any 
better  than  to  listen  to  the  hot  air  of  these  get-rich-quick 
sharks  ?" 


<( 


w 


HO  are  the  F.  F.  V.'s.'' 

Frenzied  Finance  Victims." 


Waggsby — "  Once  there    was  an   Or- 
angeman at  a  Hibernian  picnic." 

Naggsby  —  "  Well,    go   on    with    the 
story." 

Waggsby — "That  is  all  there  is  of  it." 
Naggsby — "  It's  mighty  shon." 
Waggsby — "  But  just  as   long  as  the 
Orangeman's  stay  at  the  picnic. " 


AND   HE  DID. 

S.A.INT  Peter — '•  Well,  Jones,  you're  liere  rather  earlier  than  I  e.xpected, 
and  why  such  mirtli  ?" 

Jones — "You  see — tee,  hee! — Jinkins  fold  me  such  a  fiinny  story  that  I 
thought  I'd  die  laughing." 


A  Fly-paper  Fancy. 

THE  man  with  a  shiny  pate  sat 
*  contemplating  most  cheer- 
fully a  sheet  of  fly-paper  placed 
where  it  was  doing  yeoman  serv- 
ice in  the  capture  of  its  natural 
enemy.  The  man  watched  the 
struggles  of  the  captives,  rub- 
bing his  hands  and  his  head  and 
chuckling  unctuously.  With 
every  new  captive  he  laughed  in 
fiendish  glee. 

"  That's  right,"  he  gurgled 
joyously  to  the  helpless,  flutter- 
ing flies  ;  "  now  you're  getting 
what  you  deserve.  You  thought 
that  nice,  smooth  surface  was 
my  head,  didn't  you  ?  You 
buzzed  brutally  over  it  and  then 
settled  down  to  a  steady  diet  of 
human  blood,  didn't  you  ?  But 
you  didn't  get  it,  did  you  ?  Oh, 
no;  you  didn't  get  it.  Fly-paper 
ain't  a  bald  head,  no  matter  if  it 
does  shine  and  look  tempting. 
And  human  blood  doesn't  stick 
like  that  shiny  stuff  does,  either. 
No,  no,  Mr.  Fly.  You're  up 
against  a  totally  diff"erent  propo- 
sition, and  you're  so  tiglit  up 
against  it  that  you  won't  get 
away  again.  Stick  it  out,  old 
chap.  Perseverance  is  a  good 
thing.  Buzz  and  break  your 
darn  neck  if  you  want  to,  and 
pull  your  legs  out  by  the  roots.  I'm  not  butting  in.  This 
is  no  mix  of  mine.  I'm  not  brushing  you  off  as  I  would  if 
you  had  found  what  you  were  looking  for.  Oh,  no  ;  I'm 
not  slapping  at  you  and  swearing.  I'm  taking  things  easy 
and  seeing  you  have  the  time  of  your  life.  That's  right ; 
dab  down  on  it  and  get  off  again,  only  to  come  back  and 
stick  for  good.  That's  the  way  you  do  when  you  light  on 
my  head  and  I  shoo  you  away.  But  you  don't  care  for 
me,  do  you  ?  You  come  right  back  again  worse  than 
ever  and  pump  your  blamed  bill  right  into  me.  But  you 
don't  do  it  that  way  to  the  fly-paper,  do  you  ?  Fly-paper 
is  so  different.  When  you  give  that  a  little  tap  and  are  off 
again  to  come  back,  when  you  think  your  victim  hopes 
you  have  departed  for  good,  you  don't  get  away  so  p.  d. 
q.  do  you  ?  You  confounded,  torturing  old  Indian,  you're 
getting  what's  coming  to  you  and  I'm  feeling  better.  By 
gravy  !  it's  beautiful  to  watch  you  writhe  and  twist  and 
lick  your  paws  and  bang  your  wings  around.  Keep  it  up, 
old  chap  ;  keep  it  up.  That's  the  way  you  would  do  if  you 
were  on  my  bald  head,  only  you  would  go  home  happy  when 
your  revelry  was  over.  But  you  don't  go  home  now,  do 
you  ?  No,  siree  ;  you've  come  to  stay,  and  I  hope  you  will. 
There's  nothing  like  sticking  to  a  thing.  Good  for  you  ! 
Tell  all  your  friends  to  come,  for  I  want  the  whole  bunch 
of  you.  There's  another  one — two  more — and  they  are 
sticking  to  the  paper  like  a  sick  kitten  to  a  hot  brick.    Oh, 


A   GENEROUS   REFLECTION. 
"  Mag,  I  was  t'inkin'  :    When  we  gits  married  and  I  croaks  what  a  stunnin' 
widow  you'll  make  when  you  gits  me  life-insurance." 


say,  how  good  my  head  feels  when  I  can  see  the  way  you 
are  making  mistakes.  Now  keep  right  at  it.  Keep  busy. 
I'll  be  back  after  a  while  and  look  at  you  some  more.  I'm 
going  off  now  to  have  a  nice  quiet,  flyless  nap.     See  ?" 

W.  J.  LAMPTON. 

An  Opportunity  for  Rest. 

Ii/E  come  upon  the  Idle  Rumor,  taking  its  ease  in  a 
quiet  spot. 

"  How  now  ?"  we  say  with  an  air  of  chiding.  "  Why 
this  lack  of  industry  ?  This  is  no  way  to  get  along  in  the 
world — lying  around  like  a  sluggard,  as  though  there 
were  nothing  for  you  to  do." 

"-  I  was  quite  busy  yesterday,"  yawns  the  Idle  Rumor  ; 
"  but  to-day  I  can  loaf  all  I  like." 

"  Indeed  ?" 

"  Yes.  You  see,  this  morning  they  began  denying 
me." 

Lucky  at  That. 

n  pvURlNG  the  first  year  of  our  married  life  my  hus-  - 

band  would   call  me   up  by  long-distance  "phone 
every  day  when  he  had  to  be  away  from  home." 

"  Doesn't  he  do  so  any  more  ?" 

"  Mercy,  no  !  The  only  means  I  have  of  hearing  from 
him  is  through  the  picture  postal-cards  he  sends  the  chil- 
dren." 


Potatoes  and 
_  Hungpy  Bear. 


ILI.I7STRATED    BT    H.    C.    GBEEKIXG. 


I  HE  way  Mose  Beesnaper 
came  to  contract  for  the 
new  addition  to  his  clear- 
ing, up  along  the  old  Passa- 
dank}',  was  that  Job  Jeffers 
wanted  to  move  to  a  place 
nearer  the  county  seat,  so 
that  young  Sam  Hough, 
who  was  courting  Job's 
daughter  Sally,  wouldn't 
have  so  far  to  go  to  do  h'S  courting.  Sam  was  clerk 
in  a  store  at  the  county  seat,  and  had  begun  to  com- 
plain some  that  it  was  a  little  wearing  on  his  consti- 
tution to  drive  in  ten  miles  to  Job's  two  or  three  times 
a  week  to  court  Sally,  and  then  get  back  in  time  to 
take  down  the  shutters  at  the  store  early  next  morning  ; 
and  Job  had  got  it  into  his  head  that  it  wasn't  so 
much  the  driving  the  ten  miles  in  and  back  that  was 
setting  Sam  to  getting  weak  on  coming  to  see  Sally  as 
it  was  Peleg  Diller's  snappy,  red-haired  daughter  Betty, 
who  lived  only  four  miles  from  the  county  seat. 

And  Job  wanted  Sam  in 
the  family  for  reasons  of  his 
own  independent  of  Sally's 
longings  in  the  matter.  Sam 
owned  a  good  piece  of  hoop- 
pole  land,  and  Job  was  cal- 
culating that  ii  Sam  was  in 
the  family  it  would  naturally 
fetch  the  hoop-pole  property 
along  with  him  ;  and  hoop- 
poles  were  getting  to  be  a 
better  and  better  crop  every 
year  as  they  got  scarcer.  So 
Job  set  about  getting  rid  of 
his  clearing  so  that  he  could 
buy  one  that  Jonas  Grimes 
had  to  sell,  only  three  miles 
from  the  county  seat,  the 
first  one  below  Peleg  Diller's, 
so  as  to  shut  out  the  snappy, 
red-haired  Betty,  and  leave 
Sam  no  further  e.xcuse  that 
his  traveling  to  see  Sally  was 
wearing  him  out. 


Job  disposed  of  all  his  old  clearing  but  the  potato 
lot.  That  lot  joined  Mose  Beesnaper's  place.  Mose 
wanted  the  lot  like  Sam  Hill,  he  told  Job,  but  saw  nc 
way  to  buy  it. 

"Why,  ding  it,  Mose,"  said  Job,  "I  only  want 
forty  dollars  fer  it." 

'•Yes,"  replied  Mose,  "but  you  hain't  got  an  idee 
that  every  time  I  grub  out  a  stump  I  find  forty  dollars 
in  the  hole,  have  j-ou  ?" 

"Well,  no,"  said  Job.  "I  don't  s'pose  you  do. 
But  all  I  want  is  twenty  dollars  down,  and  t'  othei 
twenty  dollars  in  a  year.  Can't  you  skeer  up  twentj 
dollars  ?" 

^lose  thought  that  maybe  he  could,  and  by  dig- 
ging and  scraping  he  managed  to  do  it,  and  took  pos- 
session of  the  potato  lot,  and  Job  bought  the  Jonas 
Grimes  clearing  and  moved  down  to  within  three 
miles  of  the  county  seat. 

It  came  along  within  three  weeks  of  the  time  that 
the  other  twenty  dollars  was  due  on   the  potato  lot 
and  Mose  Beesnaper  was  wondering  how  he  was  ever 


"  SAT  DOWN  ON  THE  WOODriLE  AND  SHOUTED  '  GLORY  !'  " 


V        !)(      MOSE  BEESNAPER'S  DEAL      it 


BANG!     WENT  A  GUN. 

going  to  get  the  money  together,  because  his  best  ox  had 
died  only  a  few  days  before,  and  he  had  had  to  buy  a  new 
one ;  and  a  pig  that  he  had  expected  to  raise  a  good  part 
of  the  money  on  had  been  stolen  by  a  bear,  and  the  pros- 
pects of  the  potato  crop  were  looking  anything  but  prom- 
ising. While  Mose  was  deep  in  his  cheerless  pondering, 
who  should  come  along  but  Job  Jeflfers ! 

"Mose,"  said  he,  falling  to  business  at  once,  "  Sam 
and  Sally  was  married  yisterday,  and  Sam  is  hooked  on 
to  the  family,  but  somehow  Sam  don't  consider  that  the  • 
hoop-pole  tract  was  hooked  on  at  the  same  time,  for  he 
tells  me  that  Bill  Losey  has  made  him  an  offer  o'  seventy- 
five  dollars  fer  it,  and  that  unless  I  want  it  bad  enough 
to  come  up  with  that  figure,  why,  he'll  have  to  let  it  go 
to  Bill.  The  deal  has  got  to  be  closed  to-morrer,  too, 
and  I'm  shy  jest  ten  dollars.  Now,  Mose,  if  you'll  scrape 
up  ten  dollars  fer  me  by  to-morrer,  the  'tater  lot  is 
your'n,  clean  and  clear!" 

Here  was  a  chance  to  make  ten  dollars  and  get  a  deed 
to  the  potato  lot  at  the  same  time,  and  although  Mose 
saw  no  more  chance  to  raise  ten  dollars  than  he  did  to 
raise  one  hundred  dollars,  he  told  Job  he  would  "  scuffle 
'round  and  see."  Job  went  home,  and  Mose  sat  down  to 
his  pondering  again.  Just  before  Job  had  come  along 
Mose  had  told  his  boy  Tim  to  take  the  gun  and  go  out  on 
the  ridge. 

"  Mebbe  you  kin  knock  over  a  deer,"  said  he.  "  And 
mebbe  you  mowt  run  ag'in  that  consarned  thievin'  bear 
that  stole  our  pig." 

Tim  had  gone,  and  while  Mose  sat  there  pondering 
and  scheming  how  he  was  to  raise  that  ten  dollars  a 
stranger  drove  up. 

"  Hullo!"  said  he.     "  Got  any  'taters  to  sell?" 


"  Yes,"  replied 
Mose;  "  but  they  ain't 
dug." 

•'  Dig  'em  then!" 
exclaimed  the  man. 
"  I  want  twenty  bushel 
o'  'taters,  and  I  want 
'em  when  I  come  back 
this  way  at  six  o'clock. 
And  rU  pay  you  fifty 
cents  a  bushel  fer  'em, 
cash  in  hand." 

"That'll  be  the  ten 
dollars,  by  hokey !" 
shouted  Mose,  jumping 
up  so  quick  that  he 
scared  the  man  almost 
out  of  his  wagon. 
"You  kin  have 
'em!" 

The  man  said  all 
right,  and  drove  on, 
looking  back  at  Mose 
a  little  suspiciously 
though.  Mose  hurried 
'  and   got   his   hoe   and 

was  beginning  to  dig 
when  suddenly  he  dropped  the  hoe  and  gritted  his  teeth. 
"Twenty  bushel!"  he  exclaimed.  "Why,  great 
Peter!  A  feller  that  kin  dig  twenty  bushel  o'  'taters  in 
half  a  day  is  doin'  somethin'  that  he  kin  brag  on  till 
kingdom  come,  and  here  it's  after  two  o'clock  and  I  got 
to  have  twenty  bushel  dug  by  six!  Ding  that  shiftless 
boy  Tim!  Why  ain't  he  here  to  help  his  poor  old  pap, 
instead  o'  runnin'  'round  the  country  with  a  gun?" 

But  Mose  seized  his  hoe  again  and  dug  away,  and  he 
declared  that  he  would  have  had  the  potatoes  dug  and 
time  to  spare  if  it  had  not  been  for  Jep  Stark. 

Jep  Stark  drove  the  tannery  bark  wagon,  and  every 
morning  while  he  was  eating  his  breakfast  before  start- 
ing for  the  woods  his  wife  put  up  his  dinner  in  a  pail  that 
held  a  bounteous  supply;  for  Jep  had  what  the  tannery 
men  called  an  amazin'  wide  appetite.  This  particular 
morning  he  told  his  wife  to  put  up  an  extra  lot  of  pork 
in  the  bucket,  because  he  was  expecting  Evander  Pool  to 
help  him  load  bark  and  share  his  dinner.  From  all  that 
they  say,  Jep's  wife  must  have  followed  instructions  and 
more,  but  for  some  reason  Evander  did  not  show  up  to 
help  Jep  that  day.  "And  a  mighty  lucky  thing  it  was 
fer  me,  too!"  said  Jep. 

By  the  time  Jep  got  his  bark  loaded  and  had  driven 
out  to  the  road  it  was  dinner  time.  He  let  the  mules  jog 
along,  and  he  opened  his  bucket.  He  had  just  begun  to 
eat  when  a  big  bear  came  out  of  the  woods  at  one  side  of 
the  road,  only  a  couple  of  paces  behind  the  wagon.  The 
bear  was  going  on  his  way,  but  he  looked  so  hungry  that 
Jep,  being  a  good-hearted  chap,  tossed  him  a  piece  of  his 
pork  from  the  pail.  The  bear  stopped  and  ate  the  pork, 
and  liked  it,  of  course.  He  liked  it  so  well  that  he  fol- 
lowed the  wagon,  and  followed  it  so  close  that  Jep  tossed 


^OSE  'BEESNAPER'S  'DEAL. 


him  another  piece  of  pork.     The  bear  swallowed  it  in  a 
jiffy  and  followed  on. 

Jep  thought  he  had  done  enough  for  the  bear  and  paid 
no  more  attention  to  him — that  is,  not  until  the  bear  began 
to  climb  up  the  ranks  of  bark  at  the  hind  end  of  the 
wagon,  and  showed  his  big  head  and  shoulders  above  the 
top  of  the  load.  Then  Jep  threw  another  piece  of  pork 
back  in  the  road.  The  bear  got  down  and  went  back, 
and  soon  gobbled  it.  Then  he  charged  on  the  wagon 
again.  Jep  tossed  more  pork.  And  so  it  went  on,  the 
bear  charging,  and  Jep  feeding  it  pork,  until  Jep  began 
to  get  mad. 

"  Consarn  it  !"  said  he.  "  I  got  somethin'  else  to  do 
besides  settin'  here  and  feedin'  good  pork  to  bears  !" 

At  the  same  time,  from  the  way  the  bear  was  acting, 
it  seemed  plain  to  Jep  that  if  the  bear  didn't  get  pork  it 
would  get  him,  so  he  made  up  his  mind  to  throw  the 
whole  pailful  to  the  bear,  and  while  the  bear  was  busy 
eating  it  unhook  the  mules,  mount  one  of  them,  and  ride 
for  help,  leading  the  other  one.  But  before  he  started  to 
do  that  he  got  a  better  idea. 

"  I'll  jest  coax  the  bear  along,"  said  he,  "  till  I  git  him 
as  fur  as  Mose  Beesnaper's,  and  then  holler  to  Mose  to 
come  out  and  shoot  him." 

Mose's  was  nearly  two  miles  further  on,  and  Jep  kept 
coa.\ing  the  bear  along  by  tossing  it  pork.  When  they  got 
to  within  half  a  mile  of  Mose's  the  pork  was  almost  gone, 
and  Jep  had  to  deal  it  out  in  such  small  bits  to  make  it 
last  that  the  bear  got  ripping  and  tearing  mad,  and 
snapped  and  snarled  and  threatened  to  get  up  on  the 
wagon  and  satisfy  himself  with  a  few  bites  out  of  Jep. 
Jep  had  only  two  little  morsels  left  when  he  came  in  sight 
of  Mose's  and  saw  Mose  digging  in  the  potato  patch. 

"  Hullo,  Mose  !"  he  shouted. 
"  Git  your  gun  !" 

Mose  looked  up  from  his  dig- 
ging and  shouted  back, 

"  I  can't !     Tim's  out  on 
ridge  with  it !" 

"Great    jumpin'    Jehu!" 
yelled.     "  Got  any  pork  ?" 

"  Got  about   a    pound    in 
house,"  said  Mose. 

"  Git  it  then  !"  shouted  Jep. 
"  I'm  coaxin'  this  consarned  bear 
somewheres  to  git  him  shot.  He 
won't  coax  w-ith  nothin'  but  pork, 
and  my  stock  is  run  out.  Git  me 
pork,  or  this  is  goin'  to  be  a  coax- 
in'  that's  liable  to  leave  Sairy  Lib 
Stark  a  widder  !" 

Then  Mose  saw  the  bear  for 
the  first  time,  and  it  popped  into 
his  head  that  it  was  the  bear  that 
had  carried  off  his  pig,  so  he 
dropped  his  potato  digging  and 
rushed  for  the  house  to  get  the 
pork.     When    he    got    back    the 


bear  had  finished  the  last  piece  of  Jep's  pork  and  was 
climbing  into  the  wagon  to  see  why  more  was  not  forth- 
coming. Mose  tossed  Jep  the  new  supply,  and  Jep  lost 
no  time  in  chopping  off  a  piece  and  throwing  it  back  in 
the  road.  The  bear  got  down  and  went  after  it,  and  Jep 
shouted  to  Mose, 

"  Run  on  to  Si  Bunkers  !  Git  Si's  gun  and  lay  fer  us  ! 
When  I  git  him  coaxed  to  where  you  lay,  bore  that  bear 
fuller  o'  holes  than  a  cullender  !" 

Mose,  forgetting  all  about  his  potato  digging,  put  on 
all  speed  for  Si  Bunker's,  which  was  two  miles  further 
down  the  road.  Jep  fed  the  bear  along,  and  although  he 
used  the  greatest  economy  in  dealing  out  the  pork,  it  was 
all  gone  but  one  small  piece  before  he  got  anywhere  near 
Si's,  and  there  was  no  sign  of  Mose  anywhere. 

"  Consarn  him  !"  said  Jep.  "  He  ain't  goin'  to  lay  fei 
us,  and  I  can't  coax  this  bear  no  furder !" 

The  bear  began  to  climb  on  the  wagon.  Jep  threw  it 
the  last  bit  of  pork,  jumped  off  the  load  and  legged  it 
down  the  road  as  fast  as  he  could  run.  According  to 
Jep's  account  of  it,  the  bear  must  have  thought  that  Jep 
was  running  away  with  a  whole  lot  more  of  pork,  for  it 
followed  him,  and  followed  so  fast  that  it  almost  had 
Jep  by  a  part  of  him  near  the  hind  suspender  button, 
when  bang  !  went  a  gun,  and  so  close  to  Jep's  head  that 
he  thought  he  was  shot.  He  was  going  right  on,  though, 
when  some  one  shouted, 

"  Hold  up,  Jep  !" 

Jep  held  up  and  looked  back.  Mose  was  scrambling  out 
of  the  bushes.     The  bear  lay  in  the  road  giving  its  last  kick. 

"  I  laid  fer  him  !"  said  Mose  ;  and  then  he  remembered 
his  potato  digging  and  what  depended  on  it,  and  he  knew 
that  there  was   no   use  now  trying  to  get  those  twenty 


the 


Jep      3, 


the 


S^se-^V/v^t. 


'  WHY,    DING   IT,    MOSE,'   SAID  JOB." 


^ 


mOSE  ^EESNAPER'S  "DEAL 


bushels  by  six  o'clock.     He  heaved  a  sigh  and  said  to  Jep, 

"Jep,  what  in  the  tarnation  dingbats  did  you  go  and 
do  it  fer  ?" 

He  didn't  wait  for  Jep  to  tell  him  why,  but  threw  the 
gun  down  on  the  ground  and  struck  out  for  home.  Jep 
was  so  taken  aback  that  he  could  not  say  a  word  until 
Mose  was  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  The  mules  had  come 
along  by  that  time,  and  Jep  jacked  the  dead  bear  up  on 
the  load  and  drove  on,  saying, 

"If  anybody  asks  my  ideas  about  it,  I'll  tell  'em  never 
to  start  in  to  coax  a  bear  some'rs  fer  somebody  to  shoot, 
not  unless  they've  got  a  barrel  o'  pork.     It's  too  tryin'  !" 

When  the  potato  buyer  came  back  to  Mose's  at  six 
o'clock  and  found  no  potatoes  for  him  he  went  away  using 
very  severe  language  toward  Mose,  and  Mose's  boy  Tim 


came  in  from  the  ridge  without  having  seen  as  much  as  a 
rabbit.  The  next  morning  Mose  was  getting  ready  to  go 
to  Job  Jeffers  to  tell  him  there  was  no  use,  and  the  deal 
would  have  to  be  off,  when  up  drove  Jep  Stark  with  his 
mules,  on  his  way  to  the  woods. 

"  Mose,"  said  he,  "  here's  your  share  of  it." 

"  My  share  o'  what  ?"  said  Mose. 

"  Of  the  bear  I  coaxed  and  you  laid  fer,"  said  Jep. 
"  I  sold  him  fer  twenty  dollars." 

Then  Jep  tossed  Mose  a  ten-dollar  bill  and  drove  on. 
Mose  stared  at  the  money  a  spell,  and  then  sat  down  on 
the  woodpile  and  shouted  "  Glory  !"  That  was  all  he 
said,  but  he  had  saved  tlie  potato  lot,  and  Job  got  the 
hoop-pole  tract  hooked  on  to  the  family  after  all,  in  spite 
of  Bill  Losey. 


J^ 


J0^ 


-^ 


-^ 


J^ 


The  Past  Tense. 

mXHIS,"  says  the 
resident  who 
is  showing  us 
through  the  city 
park  and  is  discours- 
ing on  the  many  im- 
provements  that 
have  been  made  ; 
"  this  is  the  band- 
stood." 

"  The  what  ?"  we 
ask  him. 

''The  band- 
stood." 

"What  do  you 
mean  ?" 

"Well,  it's  where 
we  used  to  have  the 
band-stand." 

Economy. 

<«pATHER,"  says 
the  scientific 
son  of  the  plutocrat, 
"  did  you  know  that 
diamonds  are  pure 
carbon,  and  that 
they  will  burn  just 
like  coal  ?" 

"  What  ?"  asked 
the  plutocrat.  "  Is 
that   a  fact  ?" 

"  Yes,"  answered 
the  son  in  a  convin- 
cing manner. 

With  a  bound  the 
plutocrat  goes  to  the 


wide  marble  stair- 
way and  calls 
"Mother!  girls! 
Come  here!"  As 
soon  as  his  wife  and 
daughters  appear  he 
says,  "  I  just  had  a 
ton  of  coal  dumped 
into  the  furnace- 
room.  Go  to  your 
jewel -caskets,  take 
out  all  your  dia- 
monds, send  them  to 
the  cellar  and  have 
that  coal  taken  to 
your  apartments. 
Burn  the  diamonds 
and  wear  the  coal. 
We've  got  to  cut  ex- 
penses some  way." 

First  Aid. 

«  U  RS.  NEW- 
'  *  STYLE'S 
baby  fell  from  the 
window  yesterday, 
and  she  saw  it  fall." 
"  Awful  !  what 
did  she  do  ?" 

"  Sent  the  nurse 
and  the  butler  out  at 
once  to  pick  it  up." 


ONE  EXAMPLE. 
Johnson — "Did  yo'  evah'heah  ob  anybody  takin'  silver  for  de  liquor  habit?" 
Jackson — '•  Wa-al  yais  !   01'  man  Randolph  swipes  his  wife's  spoons  occasionally.' 


"THE  man  who  is 
willing  to  meet 
trouble  half  wav 
seldom  has  to  go 
that  far  to  meet  it. 


Her  Only  Open  Date. 

'  AME  the  day,"  sighed  the  fond  lover. 

He  had  stolen  the  opportunity  to  pro- 
pose by  availing  himself  ol  an  artistic  piano 
recital  at  the  regular  weekly  meeting  of 
the  liach-Gounod  cult,  of  which  she  was 
a  prominent  member. 

"  I  wish  1  could,"  she  whispered  ;  "  but 
my  Mondays  are  taken  up  by  the  ladies' 
literary  association,  my  Tuesdays  by  the 
sewing  and  slandering  social,  my  Wednes- 
days by  the  higher-thought  coterie,  my 
Thursdays  by  the  Bach-Gounods,  my  Fri- 
days by  the  Browning  researchers,  my  Sat- 
urdays by  the  charitable  visitors,  and  my  Sundays  by  the 
heathen-helpers.  My  evenings  are  all  booked  for  a  long 
time  ahead  because  of  lectures,  essay  readings,  and  various 
intermittent  clubs.  I  wish  I  could  find  an  open  date,  but 
you  see  how  it  is." 

"Couldn't  you" — the  lover's  voice  trembled  with  the 
rashness  of  his  suggestion — "  couldn't  you  resign  from  one 
of  the  clubs  and  trust  me  to  take  its  place  ?" 

"  Mercy, no  !"  she  rippled  ;  "  but  I'll  tell  you  what  we 
might  do.  Wait  until  the  next  leap-year,  and  I  will  marry 
you  the  evening  of  the  twenty-ninth  of  February." 


4(  li/HERE  in  thunder  are  you  going  with  that  stove  and 
all  thpse  overcoats  ?" 
"  I  am  going,  my  Iriend,  to  spend  the  winter  in  FioriJa." 


"-^"^'^^ 


OFF  COLOR. 


(i 


An  Artistic  Criticism. 

pvRAW,   scoundrel  ! "    hisses   d'Artagnan.      Ner\'ously 
the  unknown  enemy  endeavors  to  comply  with  the 
demand.     He  tangles  his  scabbard  in  his  legs  and  almost 
falls  over  himself. 

"  jJraw  ?"  shouts  d'Artagnan  with  that  reckless  laugh 
of  his.  "  Ma  foi  !  Yon  act  as  if  you  were  a  Sunday- 
supplement  artist." 


HOW  HE  WORKED  IT. 
Mr.  Stonier  couldn't  quite  reach  the  slot  to  put  his 
penny  in,  _ 


-he  was  a  man  of  resourcefulness. 


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The  Exact  Man  and  the  Joke 


By  Wilbur  D.    Nesbit 


MR.  PLIMMER  is  an  exact  man,  as  is  to  be  ex- 
pected of  one  who  is  engaged  in  the  practice  of 
law.     It  is  when  he  tells  a  story  that  his  anxiety 
to  cling  to  the  framework  of  exactness  is  most  plain. 
Recently  he  perpetrated  the  following  crisp  little  bon- 
mot: 

"  That  reminds  me  of  a  very  clever  skit,  or  jest,  or 
joke,  or  quip,  that  I  happened  to  observe  in  one  of  the 
humorous,  or  comic,  or  amusing  periodicals,  or  papers, 
or  publications,  not  so  long  ago.  It  was  illustrated,  or, 
rather,  there  was  a  picture  which  was  designed  or  in- 
tended to  illuminate  the  words  of  the  persons  in  the  pic- 
ture, or,  rather,  the  words  that  were  represented,  of 
course,  as  being  spoken  by  these  persons.  It  was  really 
a  good  piece  of  art — the  picture — though,  to  be  sure,  it 
was  not  a  work  of  art,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  No  doubt  it 
was  drawn  very  hurriedly.  I  have  been  told  that  some 
of  the  artists  who  make  those  amusing  pictures  can 
really  dash  them  off,  so  to  speak,  in  an  amazingly  short 
time  if  they  so  desire.  There  were  two  persons  repre- 
sented in  the  picture.     One  was  a  tall  gentleman,  fash- 


IHE   WOMAN  OF  IT. 

"  But  why  did  you  refuse  him  ?  I  thought  you  said  you  loved 
him." 

"  I  do.  But  I  refused  him  so  that  when  I  finally  accept  him,  and 
ive're  wed,  I  can  remind  him  how  often  he  begged  me  to  marry  him. 


ionably  attired — that  is,  he  was  pictured  in  what  we 
might  call  very  stylish  garb.     I  should  not  care  to  say, 
with  my  present  recollection  of  the  picture,  that  he  was 
the  glass  of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form,  as  the  poet 
so  aptly  expresses  it;  yet,  in  a  sense,  he  was  portrayed 
as  a  finely  dressed  man — not  a  fop,  you  understand,  for 
really  he  had  what  one  might  term  an  intellectual  face. 
He  was  looking  at  the  other  person  in  the  picture,  who 
was  in  the  attire  of  an  artisan,   or  a  workingman.     He 
was  not  a  humble-looking  person — really,  he  had  more  of 
an  arrogant  air.     He  was  roughly  and,  I  might  say,  un- 
fashionably  dressed — that  is,  as  compared  with  the  other 
gentleman — of  course,   taking   the   assumption  that  all 
men  are  gentlemen,   without  regard  to  their  clothing; 
for,  as  we  have  so  often  read,  clothes  do  not  make  the 
man.      The  rougher  person — that  is,   the  one  who  was 
shown  in  rough  garments — had  a  ladder  upon  his  arm, 
and  seemed  to  be  either  going  to  or  coming  from  his 
work,  depending  upon  the  time  of  day,  which  was  not 
definitely  indicated   in  the  picture.      Apparently,  how- 
ever, he  had  been  going  along  the  street  and  had  been 
stopped  by  the  fashionably  dressed  gentleman.     On  the 
other  hand,  he  might  have  been  standing  there,  while  it 
might  have  been  the  other  man  who  had  approached  him 
and  stopped.     But  that,  as  you  may  think,  has  no  neces- 
sary connection  with  the  witticism  or  repartee  they  were 
designed  to  illustrate,  or,  rather,  the  bit  of  conversation 
which  was  represented  as  passing  between   them.     The 
man  who  wore  the  excellent  suit  of  clothes  was  repre- 
sented as  saying  to  the  individual  in  the  ruder  attire, 
'  How  far  are  we  from  the  St.  Regis?'    This  hostelry,  as 
you  know,  is  one  of  the  most  expensive  and  fashionable 
in  New  York,  so  from  that  I  draw  the  conclusion  that 
the  well-dressed  man  was  a  person  of  some  consequence ; 
also  that  the  scene  of  the  picture  was  some  spot  in  New 
York.     The  workingman  was  represented  as  saying  to 
him  in  reply,  '  You're  about  four  blocks  from  it,  but  I'm 
about  four  million  dollars  from  it, '  or  something  to  that 
effect.     At  any  rate,  his  rejoinder  was  such  as  to  draw 
a  ludicrous  distinction  between  distance  o.n  the  one  hand 
and  fortune  on  the  other,  which  impressed  me  at  the  time 
as  being  very  humorous  indeed.      I  remember  that  at 
the  moment  I  laughed  somewhat  heartily  over  it.     I  laid 
the  paper  aside,  intending  to  return  to  it  at  some  leisure 
moment  and  study  the  picture  and  the  conversation  more 
particularly,  feeling  that  in  some  way  I  could  trace  the 
sociological  influences  actuating  the  retort,   but  unfor- 
tunately it  was  thrown  away  by  my  janitor.     Still,  the 
gist  of  the  funny  saying  was  in  the  main  as  I  have  re- 
peated it  to  you,  and  it  really  is  a  striking  example  of 
the  spontaneity  of  our  American  humor." 

Whereat  everybody  laughed,  for  they  knew  that  Mr. 
Plimmer  would  immediately  go  into  an  explanation  of 
the  story  otherwise. 


II 


N 


OTICE  has  been  served  on  all  vested  interests  to  pull 
down  their  vests. 


The  king — "Truly,  retainer,   thou  hast  a  goodly  wit 
Chamberlain,  for  that  merry  crack 


-I  will  have  him  knighted.- 


^^'    ~..M    ^.     .'.    •    V  ,  <-_r  >  I  ;.       ■ 


3- 


4- 


-By  my  halidom I've  changed  my  mind  !" 

WHY   THE   KING   CHANGED    HIS   MIND. 


ANOTHER   MONT   PELEE. 
The  FLT '-Run,  boys,  run  !     There's  one  of  those  volcanoes  just  breaking  out." 


It  Got  Twisted. 

HHE  visitor  from 
Kansas  gazes  in- 
tently at  the  spi- 
ral fire-escape  which 
winds  its  way  down  the 
rear  of  the  fifteen-story 
building. 

"  By  jox  !"  he  says, 
"  that  must  have  been  a 
darned  long  ladder  a- 
fore  the  cyclone  hit  it." 

A  Good  Character. 

The  ladies  —  "  What 
sort  of  a  person  is  Mrs. 
Newcome,  Mr.  Hopper?" 

The  general  dealer — 
"  She's  a  perfect  lady — 
doesn't  know  one  brand 
o'  goods  from  another." 


The  Lay  of  the  Liver. 


0\V  his  pa  had  died  of  liver 

Oji  the  O-kee-cho-bee  River, 
And  his  mother's  liver  'd  killed  her  at 
the  west ; 
Then  a  sister,  warmly  cherished, 
Had  taken  ill  and  perished, 
Though   she'd   coddled   up  her  liver 
just  her  best. 
Next  his  brother  Bill  was  taken 
With  a  sort  of  inward  achin' 
That  required  no  skilled  physician  to 
discern 
Was  a  case  of  plain  cirrhosis, 
By  the  quickest  diagnosis — 
William  kicked  the  well-known  coop- 
erage in  turn. 

So  this  liver-haunted  fellow, 
With  a  face  like  jaundice  yellow 
From  the  constant  fear  that  racked  him  day  and  night, 

Set  before  himself  the  question 

How  to  obviate  congestion 
And  to  keep  his  liver  well  and  working  right 

Then  he  learned  fi-om  Dr.  Slaughter 

That  the  danger  lay  in  water, 
And  that  once  he  found  a  spring  to  suit  his  case 

He  could  live  on  infinitum, 

Just  to  fool  folks  or  to  spite  'em, 
Till  the  skin  was  dried  like  parchment  on  his  face. 

Hence  he  sought  with  ardent  vigor 

'Mid  the  northern  winter's  rigor. 
Hence  he  sought  amid  the  tropics  of  the  souOi  ; 

And  he  never  saw  a  puddle 

But  he  said.  "Perchance  this  mud  '11 
Be  the  stuff  to  break  my  liveristic  drd^ith." 

Yes  ;  he  tried  'em  all,  be  jabers  ! 

Never  ceased  he  from  his  labors 
Till  he  found  the  very  water  he  desired. 

And  lie  settled  there  to  stay 

Till  his  distant,  dying  day, 
While  he  boasted  in  a  way  to  make  you  tired. 

Happened  down  inold  Virginia, 

Did  this  yarn  I've  set  to  spin  ye  ; 
And  this  liver-liberated  fellow  stayed 

Till,  by  tanking  up  discreetly. 

He  had  rid  himself  complelely 
Of  the  symptoms  that  had  rendered  him  afraid. 

To  a  century  and  fifty  — 

He  was  feeling  nice  and  nifty —  ■" 

But  his  body  grew  exhausted — there's  the  rub. 

Yet  his  liver,  when  he  croaked. 

With  such  Heathlessness  was  soaked 
That  they  tool;  it  out  and  killed  it  with  a  club. 

STTRICKLAKD  W.  GILLILAN. 


What  She  Said. 

Bride — "Oh,  John,  darliiig!  I'm  so  glad 
you've  come  home  !  Cook  is  acting  something 
awful — smashing  dishes  and  tearing  around  like 
a  lunatic  !     Do  go  and  soothe  her." 

Groom — "Why,  sweetheart,  what  upset  her?" 
Briiii — "  Nothing  at  all — except  that  I  told 
her  you  said  she  was  a  fierce  cook." 


Threw  ttimself  on  the  Beairt. 

IT  was  a  lovely  night.  The  stars  were  twinkling,  the 
moon  was  shming,  the  dogs  were  howling,  the  cats 
were  holding  forth  in  chorus — in  fact,  everything  was 
peaceful  and  quiet.  I  was  strolling  along  the  track,  when 
suddenly  1  saw  a  beam  lying  across  the  rails.  I  looked 
at  it  ;  but,  much  as  I  wished,  I  hadn't  the  power  to  move 
it.  I  was  in  a  tremble.  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  for 
just  at  that  moment  I  heard  the  rumble  and  roar  and 
rattle  of  a  coming  express.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came. 
Louder  and  louder  grew  the  noise.  What  was  I  to  do  ? 
I  couldn't  lift  it !  I  was  powerless.  All  at  once  an  idea 
struck  me.  I  put  my  body  between  the  train  and  the 
beam,  and  the  train — thank  goodness  ! — the  train  passed 
on  without  harm. 

It  was — it  was  a  moonbeam  !    .  la  touche  hamcock. 


STOP!     YOU'LL  HURT   THE   BABY! 
Old  L.\DV — "  Hey,  there  I     Stop  where  you  are  !     Can't 
you  see  where  you're  falling  ?" 


Fate  of  the  Hero. 

MAN  whose  cheeks  were  pale, 
whose  eyes  were  lustreless, 

Came  walking  with  the  air  of  one 
in  deep  distress. 

And  as  he  paced  the  street  the 
ladies  turned  to  see. 

And  sighed  because  his  limbs 
were  bandaged  at  the  knee. 

They  sighed  also  because  his  lore- 
head  bore  a  patch 

Of  plaster  meant  to  hide  a  long 
and  ragged  scratch. 

One  arm  was  in  a  sling.  At  this 
the  ladies  wept — 

In  fact,  they  pitied  him  as  slowly 
on  he  crept. 

"Oh.    sir."    they   said    to    him. 

"pray  tell  us  of  the  game  ; 
Pray  tell  us  of  the  field  where  you  went  forth  to  maim. 
Were  you  the  centre-rush,  or  tackle,  or  a  guard. 
That  thus  you  have  been  torn  and  mangled,  bruised 

and  scarred  ? 
Was  it  in  some  swift  dash — some  scrimmage  for  the 

ball- 
That  you  were  thrown  around,  a  plaything  for  them 

all? 
Come,  we  will   talk  with  you  and  marvel  at  your 

speech. 
Oh,  tell  us  of  the  game — please  tell  us,  we  beseech  !" 

The  pallid  man   then  smiled  and  leaned  upon  his 

crutch. 
"  Fair  ones,"  said  he,  "  my  wounds  do  not  amount 

to  much. 
I  did  not  chance  to  play  at  football,  but  the  scenes 
Where  I  was  whittled  up  were  in  the  Philippines." 
The  gentle  ladies  then  refused  to  smile  or  sing. 
But  with  sharp  looks  of  scorn  they  said,  "The  hor- 
rid thing !" 


KINDNtSS. 
Southerner — "Yes,  they  wanted  to  burn  him  at  first,  but  as  they  had  no 
proof  of  his  guilt  I  persuaded   them   to  hang   him  instead.     (Proudly.)     You 
northerners  may  not  think  it,  but  there  are  some  southerners  who  possess  a  little 
of  the  milk  of  human  kindness." 


The  Unexpected. 

SOUTHERN 
woman,  on  re- 
turning home 
from  a  protracted  ab- 
sence, was  surprised  at 
her  old-fashioned  col- 
ored serving- woman's 
queer  idea  of  "  a  place 
for  everything." 

"  Mr.  Maury  tells  me 
he  has  to  buy  new  socks 
every  few  days.  What 
becomes  of  them.  Aunt 
Lucy  ?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Alice,  I 
put 'em  inde  sugar-buck- 
et, obco'se."  And  with  a 
reproachful  air  the  faith- 
ful servant  brought  out 
a  well-scoured  wooden 
bucket  filled  with  neatly- 
laundered  socks. 


HEART   AND   HEART. 
Oh)  yes  ;  she  had  met  this  young  man, 


JU  ANY  a  man  takes  a 
joke  for  the  purpose 
of  working  it  off  as  his 
own  later. 


No    Hope  for 
Him. 

««YOU  have  just  as 
much  right 
and,  theoretically, 
just  as  good  a  chance 
as  anybody  else  to 
be  president,"  says 
the  patriotic  citizen 
to  his  neighbor. 

"  I  cannot  agree 
with  you,"  sighs  the 
neighbor.  "We  have 
no  children,  and  that 
fact  alone  would  lose 
me  the  photogra- 
phers' vote," 


CORN  MEAL. 


TACT  is  the  art  of 
*  doing  things 
without  appearing  to 
do  them. 


Whizzville,  Kansas,  May  I2th.  (Spe- 
cial to  Judge.)  The  first  cyclone  of  the 
season  struck  this  town  yesterday.  The 
only  building  left  standing  is  Murphy's 
saloon.  The  new  Baptist  church  is  de- 
molished. 


(( 


W^ 


A  Costly  Filling. 

ILL  you  have 
this  cavity 
filled  with  gold  or 
amalgam  ?"  asks  the 
dentist  of  his  pluto- 
cratic patient. 

"Use  the  most 
expensive  material 
you  have,"  orders 
the  multi-million- 
aire. 

Forthwith  the 
dentist  takes  his 
coal-scuttle  from  the 
safe  and  begins  the 
operation. 

Will  Be  Import- 
ed. 

uXHE  cake-walk, 
which  has  lost 
its  vogue  here,"  said 
the  first  man,  "is 
reported  to  be  all 
the  rage  in  Paris." 

"  Ah,"  comment- 
ed the  second  man, 
"that  means  that  it 
will  be  seen  in  our 
higher-priced  thea- 
tres at  last." 

Knowing  from 
whence  we  get  our 
society  dramas,  the 
first  man  is  forced 
to  acknowledge  the 
truth  of  his  deduc- 
tion. 


AT   NL\GARA. 
Joshua  Backwoods — "'Lindy,  it  beats  all  how  them  newspapers  lie. 
falls  ain't  harnessed  no  more'n  I  am." 


Them 


Mud  Knob  Style. 

Smith  —  "So 
Whitney  is  going  to 
retire  after  making 
his  fortune  in  street- 
cars ?  I  suppose  he 
will  devote  himsell 
to  society  now." 

Jones — "Yes;  he 
is  going  to  '  move  up 
front  and  step  live- 
ly.'" 

Not  Often. 

Secretary  of  thi 
navy — "  I  shall  go 
over  to  New  York 
in  the  morning." 

Assistant —  "  On 
one  of  the  naval  ves- 
sels ?" 

Secretary  of  the 
navy — "Did  you 
ever  hear  of  a  doc- 
tor taking  his  own 
medicine  ?" 

Delivered. 

DAN    CUPID,    with 
his  moving-van. 
Is  standing    at  my 
door, 
lie   tenderly   loads    in 
my  heart ; 
I'll  see  it  nevermore. 

He  drives    it   to  Myr 
tilla's  house  ; 
She  takes  it  in  with 
care. 
I  wonder  will  it  move 
again, 
Or    stay    forever 
there  ? 


WHEN   REUBEN  CAME   TO   TOWN. 
Mr.  Rube  Bug — "  My  goodness,  Bill !  but  that's  a  fine  crop  of  hay  you  have  there- 


The  Difference. 

((  A  FTER  all,  how  times  do  change  !"  said  the  sage  of 
Kohack,  deftly  performing  the  strabismusmatical 
feat  of  casting  a  retrospective  and  regretful  glance  back 
into  the  past  the  while  he  fixed  a  severe  and  hypercritical 
glare  on  the  foibles  and  follies  of  the  present.  "  When  I 
was  young  a  man  was 
rich  enough  to  beenvied 
when  he  had  the  leisure 
to  shave  his  upper  lip 
regularly,  and  part  his 
hair  at  the  back  and 
brush  it  toward  his 
ears, and  found  it  within 
his  means  to  paint  his 
house  every  other  year, 
and  wear  an  ivory- 
headed  cane  on  Sun- 
days, and  had  an  au- 
thoritative voice  at  the 
sessions  of  the  school 
board,  and  occasionally 
pulled  the  nose  of  an 
opponent  at  town- 
meetin' ;  and  there  was 
to  be  found  in  his  parlor 
a  hair-cloth  sofa  as  cold 
as  a  tomb  and  as  slip- 
pery as  Greenland's  icy 
mountains,  a  marble- 
topped  centre-table 
adorned  with  a  batch 
of  sad  and  soggy  wax- 
flowers  in  a  glass  case, 


and  a  lot  of  homed 
and  freckled  sea-shells 
on  the  what-not.  If 
he  possessed  all  these 
he  was  considered  to 
be  just  about  as  rich 
as  a  man  could  possi- 
bly get  to  be,  and  was 
looked  up  to  accord- 
in'ly. 

"  But,  nowaday.-  — 
huh  f — if  a  man  can't 
afford  to  wear  side- 
whiskers  and  a  promi- 
nent abdomen,  and 
buy  himself  a  seat  in 
the  senate,  and  be 
in\estigated  for  be- 
longin'  to  a  trust,  and 
be  spoken  of  as  a 
magnate  or  some  kind 
of  a  baron,  and  have 
a  son  who  ought  to  be 
on  the  rock-pile  half 
of  the  time  and  shot 
by  the  reform  com- 
mittee the  rest  of  the  time,  and  a  daughter  who  is 
newspaperially  accused  of  havin'  designs  on  the  peace 
and  poverty  of  a  foreign  nobleman,  and  maintain  a 
horseless  carriage,  he  ain't  even  considered  rich  enough 
to  be  hated.  In  this  day  and  age  a  man  's  got  to  be 
an  automobillionaire,  or  he  ain't  in  it." 


-and  so  early,  too.'' 


POOR  SUPPORTERS. 
Mrs.  Handout — "Poor  fellow  !  have  you  no  means  of  support?" 

Weary  Willie — "No,  lady.     I  wanted  ter  bring  me  sons  up  ter  be  jockeys,  but  me  wife  insisted 
on  makin'  poets  out  uv  dem." 


1 


SOLD. 

'  This  hot-water  bottle  ain't  wuth  a  durn." 

'  Why  ?" 

'  Well,  sur,  I  had  water  in  it  niore'n  four  hours  an'  it  didn't  git  hot  a  bit 


Swapping  Antiques. 

V  \VI  I'E  ransacked  both  high  and  low — 

Tears  were  of  no  avail — 
And  sent  three-qxiarters  of  our  goods 

Off  to  a  rummage  sale. 

And  now  she's  patronized  a  few, 
And,  to  my  grief  and  pain. 

Has  bought  two  loads  of  worthless  truck 
And  filled  our  house  again. 

Reassuring. 

((I  AM  afraid,"  said 
the  coal-man, 
"  that  some  of  these 
scientists  will  pro- 
duce an  effective 
substitute  for  coal 
and  injure  my  busi- 
ness." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't 
worry  if  I  were  you," 
advised  the  ice-man. 
"The  artificial-ice 
industry  never  hurt 
me  in  the  least." 

Harry's  Thought. 

I    THINK    the    little 
•        shining  stars 
That  blink  way  up 
so  high 
Are     simply     Roman- 
candle  balls 
Stuck  fast  into  the 
sky. 


He  Was  Desperate. 

^RAKE    had   just 

nailed  the  broom 

to  the  mast-head 

when   he   was  asked   his 

reason. 

"  Because,"  he  an- 
swered with  a  hunted 
look,  "  my  wife  said  she 
was  going  to  clean  house 
to-morrow." 

And  silence  fell  upon 
the  curious,  while  their 
hearts  went  out  to  the 
man  who  was  driven  to 
so  desperate  an  expedi- 
ent. 

How  They  Affected 
Him. 

(jVES,    my    poor    hus- 
band   suffers   so 
much    with     dyspepsia," 
says  the  first  woman. 

"  What    caused    it  ?" 
asks  the  second. 
"  He  always  props  the  paper  in  front  of  him  at  break- 
fast, and  I  think    he   got  the  dyspepsia   from  reading  so 
many  of  the  health-food  advertisements." 

A  Chemist's  Point  of  View. 

F.\IR  Cleopatra,  so  they  tell  us,  centuries  ago 
Dissolved  a  pearl  and  drank  it,  her  magnificence  to  show  ; 
But  lo  !  this  did  not  serve  to  prove  the  glory  of  her  state — 
It  showed  that  vinegar  dissolves  calcium  carbonate. 


II 


SEEING  NEW  YORK.       . 
•■  There,  Stella,  look  !     That  copper  couldn't  find  a  better  sign  to 
lean  ag'in'  ef  he  wuz  huntin'  all  day." 


Genuine  Inspiration. 

AY  !"  exclaimed  the  author,  jump- 
ing to  his  feet ;  "  say  !  I  've  just 
got  tlie  inspiration  for  a  story 
that  will  sell  a  million  copies  be- 
fore the  ink  is  dry." 

"Good  !"  declared  his  friend. 
"Good?  Why,  man,  it's  su- 
perb !  I'm  going  to  write  a  sto- 
ry that  will  be  cherished  in  the 
bouiloir  uf  every  woman  in  the  world.  I've  only  thought 
of  one  character,  and  ih.at  is  the  hero  ;  but  he'll  be  the 
dream  and  the  despair  of  every  female  between  the  ages 
of  eight  and  eighty  before  my  book  has  been  out  for  a 
week." 

"  You  don't  say  !     What  sort  of  a  hero  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is  to  be  the  man  who  invented  bargain-sales." 

The  Light  that  Failed. 


^<:-:-"  ::^ 

^Silfc"  r^^ti 

^:,|p^*5:"t=:?^ 

\FfM:'-X;-^ 

K|S 

^^^^A 

K^a'-'^^ 

^^\':-  ^1  ■ 

i^^"']p/ 

'Y>1!v-\- 

S^  V  V     \ 

Jij  T  '  ' 

?^-^.-^ 

5t5A^.-.- 

-    -        '■   i:A}i 

'  Yes,  brudders  an'  sistahs, 
I's  now  a  bright  an'  shin- 


Ad^  Casar  (a  new  recruit)— 
I's  lef '  de  serbice  ob  ole  Satan, 
in'  light  on  de  Lawd's  side." 

Skeptical  listener  (in  back  seat) — "  Den  pay  me  back 
dat  fo'r  dollahs  yo'  owe  me,  'less  yo'r  no  bettah  dan  a 
dahk-lantern." 


HE  TOOK   HIS   PEX   IN   H.\ND. 


n 


How  Dreadful ! 

jlN  the  wild  and  woolly  west, 
dear  boy,"  sighed  Archi- 
bald, "  the  men  are  ter- 
ribly crude  in  their  living,  don't 
you  know." 

"  I  should  imagine  so,"  sim- 
pered Ferdinand. 

"  Va-as,  oh,  ya-as.  Why,  do 
you  know,  not  a  man  on  my  fa- 
thaw's  ranch  has  a  valet." 

"  Since  you  mention  it,  dear 
fellaw,  I  recall  reading  some- 
where that  everybody  of  any 
pwominence  in  the  —  aw — the 
region  you  mention  has  killed 
his  man." 

"  Really,  it  is  true,  'pon  my 
word." 

"  And  why  did  he  kill  him  ? 
Couldn't  the  man  tie  a  sc«rf 
properly  ?  Sometimes,  when  my 
man  bungles  my  cravat  so  atro- 
ciously, I  am  almost  tempted  to 
feel  as  if  I  could  have  an  inclina- 
tion to  murder  him,  bah  Jove  !" 

"  Bah  Jove  !  so  do  I,"  said 
Archibald,  as  if  he  were  wonder- 
ing why  he  never  had  realized 
that  he  had  felt  that  way  when 
he  did  feel  that  way. 


HIS   ONLY   HOPE. 


Mrs.  Feedem — "  So 
Weary  R.\ttles — " 


you  used  to 
Well,  I  got 


be  an  actor?     How  did  you  happen  to  become  a  tramp?"     i 
tired  uv  goin'  hungry," 


iAONEY  has  kept  many  a  man 
out  of  the  penitentiary — and 
out  of  heaven,  also. 


-:a 


March. 

MARCH  is  fiiU 
Of  terrible  gales — 
Also  full 

Of  hosiery  sales. 

Resonant. 

Hurleigh—"  How 
did  you  ever  happen 
to  pick  out  such  a 
suit  of  clothes  ?" 

Burleigh—"  Oh,  I 
just  went  it  blind." 

Hurleigh — "  And 
deaf?" 

Among  the  Mer- 
maids. 

K  U/HY  are  all  the 
girls  rushing 
to  the  department- 
store  to-day  ?"  asked 
the  merman  of  the 
merpoliceman. 

"  Somebody  down 
there  is  giving  a 
demonstration  of  a 
new  fashion  called 
the  rainy-day  tail." 


It. 


Spring. 

IWJOW    within    the 
'  •         crowded  car 

Enters    Spring    so 
sweet ; 
Hoary  Winter  rises  up, 

Giving  her  his  seat. 

A  Time  of  Stress, 
ii  MAMMA,  what 
are  the  equi- 
noctial  storms?" 
asks  the  little  Wise 
boy. 

"  The  equinoctial 
storms,"  put  in  Mr. 
Wise  before  his  wife 
could  get  her  mouth 
open, "  are  due  about 
the  time  your  ma 
discovers  the  ugli- 
ness of  her  winter 
hat  and  the  beauties 
of  the  new  spring 
bonnets." 


COULDN'T  ACCOUNT  FOR  IT. 

Uncle  Ezra  Wilkins — "  Hanged  if  these  city  fellers  h'ain't  queer.  Thet  young 
dude  thet's  with  us  didn't  hev  no  complaint  last  summer,  but  this  season  he's  alius 
kickin'  'bout  the  butter." 

Hank  Hunkins — "What's  the  matter  with  it?" 

Uncle  Ezra—"  Cussed  if  I  know.     It's  the  same  butter  we  hed  last  year." 


IT  is  not  what  a  man 
thinks  but  what 
he  thinks  he  thinks 
that  determines  his 
mental  status. 


■5^-S.-E>AGGY 


A  WARNING. 

BuNCO-STEERER — " Isn't  this  Jasper  Hayseed  of  Moose  Meadow ?    No?    Pray  excuse  me !    No  harm,  I  hope ?" 
Deacon  Scudder — "Not  a  bit,  young  feller  ;  but  you orter  be  a  leetle  more  careful.     S'posen  I'd  bin  a  ' bunco- 
steerer  ' — how  easy  it  'd  bin  fer  me  tew  string  yew  !" 


FORESIGHT. 
Mr.  Crusty — "  Young  Jenkins  asked  me  for  Maria's  hand  last  night  and  I  threw  him 
out  of  (he  house." 

Mrs.  Crusty — "  Honors  !     Why  did  you  do  that?" 

Mr.  Crusty — "  So  they  will  elope  and  save  wedding  expenses." 


Old  and  New. 

THEY  used  to  turn  the  gas  down  low, 
*      So  they  could  not  be  seen  ; 
But  courtship  in  these  modem  days 
Is  more  like  this,  I  ween  : 

An  auto  in  a  country  road, 
A  broken-down  machine, 

A  pair  of  occupants  who  then 
Turn  down  the  gasoline. 

His  Eccentricity. 
((  pRANKSMITH  is  a  very  ec- 
centric  person,  isn't  he  ?" 
"  Yes  ;  so  I  have  observed." 
"  But  did   you  ever  notice  the 
queerest  of  all  his  peculiar  traits  ? 
When  he   sees   something   that  is 
none  of  his  business  he  invariably 
acts  just  as   if  it  was  none  of  his 
business  and  quietly  goes  on  about 
his  business." 


A  Professional  Criticism. 

I«DUT,"  sneers  the  tattooed  lady,  "the  contortionist  is 
such  a  piece  of  vanity." 

"  I  have  never  noticed  it,"  argues  the  wild  man.  "  He 
always  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  perfectly  modest,  unassum- 
ing fellow." 

"  Unassuming  !"  exclaimed  the  tattooed  lady.  "  And 
half  the  time  he  is  simply  wrapped  up  in  himself." 


No  Doubt  of  It. 

Mrs.    Closefist — "  Oh,   do   give 
me   a   new  bonnet,   my  dear  !     It 
will  set  all  my  friends  talking." 

Closefist — "  If  you're  after  notoriety,  why  don't  you  get 
the  old  one  made  over  ?  Tliat  will  make  your  friends 
talk  twice  as  much." 


A    MAN  may  not  have  a  cent  to  his  name  and  still  have 
dollars  in  the  name  of  his  wife. 

A  bachelor's  ideal  better  half  is  a  woman  with  money. 


AT   THE  CIRCUS. 
Mrs.  Cornbride — "  Look,  Josh  !     Ain't  that  trick  elephant  cute?     I  jest  gave  him  one  of  my  biscuits,  an'  now  he's  playin'  dead." 
Josh — "Come  on,  Maria  !     We  'd  better  scoot  fer  home.     Poor  cuss  !   he  is  dead." 


The  man  has 
congestion  of 
the  bank -ac- 
count, and  the 
proper  move  for 
us  to  make  is 
to  relieve  that 
as  much  as  pos- 
sible." 


1 


STJs  ^^>v/^/  C 


Gate-slamming  George- 


IN  SHANTYTOWN. 
■'  To  de  woods  fer  mine,  where  dey  only  keeps  dogs." 


A  Scientific  Diagnosis. 

rSS|HAT  is  your  diagnosis  ?"  asks  the  older  physician  of 
111     his  young  confrere,  who  is   earnest   but  inexperi- 
enced, and  who  has  been  called  in  consultation. 

"  Well,"  says  the  younger  medico,  "  there  doesn't  seem 
to  be  much  the  matter.  The  patient  has  a  slight  fever 
and  some  little  tightness  of  the  chest.  I  should  say  there 
was  nothing  more  than  a  cold  bothering  him." 

"  My  boy," 
said  the  older 
man  kindly, 
"you  have  gone 
about  it  wrong. 
Note  these 
symptoms  :  A 
whi  te- marble 
stairway  in  the 
entrance  hall, 
gold  furniture 
in  the  parlor, 
cut  glass  and 
silver  galore  in 
the  dining- 
room,  two  auto- 
mobiles in  the 
yard,asolid  ma- 
hogany " 

"But  what 
has  that  to  do 
with  the  sick- 
ness of  Mr. 
Gumpurse  ?" 

"  It  has  lots 
to   do   with    it. 


Her  System. 

I E  S ,  my 
life  has 
broken 
me  of  smok- 
ing," says  the 
sad-eyed  man. 

"  She  did  ?" 
asks  the  friend. 
"  How  did  she 
go  about  it ;" 

"  She  broke 
m  e ,"  explains 
the  first  man, 
exhibiting  a  re- 
ceipted bill  for 


two  spring  bonnets  and  four  creations  from  Paris. 

Vocal  Gymnastics. 

jUISS   AMELIA   VERISOPHT   has    been   obliging  with 
a  song. 
Miss  Verjuice  (sympathetically) — "Thank  you  so  very 
much!     Do  you  know,  I  should  think  it  would  tire  your 
eyebrows  excessively  to  sing  for  so  long  a  time." 


APPRECI.\TED. 

Native — "  God  bless  Mr.  Carnegie,  sir  !  He  gave  us  that  fine  free  public  library,  sir." 
Stranger — "  I'm  glad  you  appreciate  it.  You  don't  look  like  a  reading  man,  either." 
Native — "  I  ain't,  sir  ;  but  I've  got  the  job  o'  takin'  caie  o'  the  buildin',  sir." 


in    rf 


n.   O 


h-1 


^s 


z.o 


u     - 

&  s 

1-1  <J 


A  Business  Head. 

HE  interviewers  ask   tlie  nobleman  who  has  just  arrived,  w^hy 
he  is  carrying  the  neat  little  savings-bank  among  his  baggage. 
"  I  wish,"  he  explains,  "  to  apply  American  business  meth- 
ods to  my  love  affair — if  there  should  be  one." 

"But  we   thought    that  would    be    perfectly  understood," 
murmur  a  few  of  the  interviewers. 

"  Ah,  gentlemen,  I  see  you  do  not  understand.  You  see, 
I  read  the  American  papers.  I  observe  how  one  may  buy  a 
piano,  or  a  house,  or  a  set  of  books,  or  anything,  and  take 
possession  of  it  without  paying  in  full.  The  dealers  supply 
him  with  a  small  savings-bank,  similar  to  the  one  I  have. 
Then  each  day  the  purchaser  slips  a  dime  or  a  quarter  or  a 
dollar  into  the  bank,  the  dealer  retaining  the  key.  Presto  ! 
Before  you  know  it  you  have  paid  for  what  you  bought  and  do  not  notice  the  expense. '• 
"  And  you — how  will  you  apply  this  method  to  your  own  case  .''" 
"  And  I — if  I  marry  an  heiress  whose  father  is  temporarily  tangled  in  the  markets 
— I  shall  install  the  little  savings-bank  in  my  home,  retaining  the  key,  of  course,  and 
my  wife  shall  place  each  day  a  small  sum  in  the  bank.  You  see,  messieurs,  it  will 
make  it  pleasanter  all  around." 


NOT   INFECTIOUS. 
Customer  (who  has  ordered  a  book) — "  Have  you  got  the  encyclopaedia?" 
New  assistant — "Oh.  no.  sir!     It's  something  you  can't  ketch." 


The  Woman  of  It. 

lifHEN  Mrs.  Pot  met  Mrs.  Kettle 
the  memory  of  the  little  dis- 
pute of  their  husbands  was  fresh 
in  their  minds.  However,  iMrs. 
Pot  got  over  it  gracefully,  and  the 
other  members  of  the  club  said  no 
one  could  have  been  nicer  or  more 
thoughtful  about  it.  Mrs.  Kettle 
advanced  cordially,  took  Mrs.  Pot's 
hand,  and  murmured  her  pleasure. 
Mrs.  Pot  cried, 

"  So  glad  to  see  you  !  And  how 
well  you  look  !  Black,  my  dear,  is 
so  becoming  to  you  !" 


A  Smoker's  Joy. 

{WALK  the  quiet  thoroughfare, 
As  if  on  breezy  springs, 
And  blow  serenely  in  the  air 
These  flor  del  fumar  rings. 

I  see  them  slowly  drift  away 
While  I  cavort  in  style 

And  heave  my  chest  in  manner  gay 
And  wear  a  happy  smile. 

And  as  my  arms  about  me  fly 
And  in  the  zephyr  wave, 

They  envy  me  the  weed  that  I 
Puff  on  the  purple  pave. 

And  yet  I  have  a  little  joke 
While  on  my  way  I  dive — 

The  flor  del  fumars  that  I  smoke 
Are  always  "three  for  fire." 

Spring  Bulletin. 

THERE'S  a  most  excited  twitter 
*      Going  on  just  overhead, 
For  a  newsboy  robin  sh(mted, 

"Extra!    Extra!     Winter's  dead  !" 


IT  is  a  wise  leap-year  girl  that  looks 
carefully  before  she  leaps. 


AN   ANNIHIL-^TOR    OF   "TIME   .'\ND  SPACE." 


Rural  Pessimist. 

HILE 


A  Celestial  Conversation. 

IVERY  now  and  then 
the  newly -arrived 
spirit    was     rather 

inclined    to    throw 

on  style,  which,  considering 
his  abiding-place,  was  un- 
called for,  and  was  naturally 
distasteful  to  the  other  spirits. 
He  was  always  talking  about 
how  many  things  had  hap- 
pened to  him  while  he  so- 
journed on  earth.  One  day 
he  fell  in  with  a  mild-manner- 
ed spirit  who  listened  patient- 
ly to  his  boasting. 

"  And  so  you  think  you 
are  entitled  to  some  special 
distinction  because  you  en- 
dured so  much  in  your  other 
life  ?"  asked  the  mild-man- 
nered spirit. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  say  that,  ex- 
actly," was  the  airy,  noncha- 
lant reply;  "but  of  course 
any  one  who  has  gone  through 
what  I  did  is  of  necessity  en- 
titled to  some  distinction." 

"  Um-m-m  !  Well,  what 
was  the  most  trying  ordeal 
you  suffered  ?" 

"  The  very  worst,  I  should 
say,  was  being  operated  upon 
for  appendicitis." 

The  mild-mannered  spirit 
laughed  satirically.  "Appen- 
dicitis ?"  he  chuckled.  "  My 
good  fellow,  you  don't  know 
the  least  thing  about  critical 
''"'^rations.     I've    got    you 


li/HILE   good    folks    are 
"      shoutin' 

I  am  very  glum. 
All  these  dancin'  blossoms 

Do  not  mean  a  plum. 

On  the  peach's  blossom 
You  can  never  bet 

Thet  a  peach  for  certain 
You  will  ever  get. 

Folks  may  take  ter  dancin', 
But  your  Uncle  Cale 

Bets  his  bottom  dollar 

Thet  the  crops  '11  fail. 

A  Sign  of  Spring. 

Cobwigger  —  "What 
do  you  want  with  a  set 
of  wheels  ?" 

Freddie  —  "  Want  to 
make  an  express-wagon 
out  jf  the  bobsled." 


double  discounted."  And  he  floated  away,  with  a  traf;  of 
sardonic  laughter  in  his  wake. 

"  Who  is  that  old  boaster  ?"  asked  the  new  spirit  of  a 
by-flyer. 

"  The  one  you  were  talking  with  ?  Don  t  you  know 
him  ?     That's  Adam." 

He  Was  Flourishing. 

(( I   HEAR  that  Jimpkins  is  getting  along  fine  in  the  city," 
said  Blobbson. 
"  I  suppose    he   is,   maybe  ;    but    I    never   thought    he 

would,"  commented  Niverly. 

"  His  father  told  me  he  was  flourishing,  though." 
"  Yes,  he  is.     He  is  teaching  penmanship." 


THE  royal  housekeeper  found  King  Midas  in  the  cellar 
weeping  golden  tears  that  were  rattling  down   on  the 
floor  like  hail. 

"  Good  master  !"  cried  she,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?" 
"  Alack,  alack  !"  cried  the  unlucky  king.     "  It  was  dark 
down   here,  and   I   have  put  my  hand  in  the   coal-bin   by 
mistake." 


A  GOOD  SIGN. 
The  cabby  {solihi/uizing) — "  Shure,  Oi  knew  from  th'  shtart 
mintioned  a  wur-rd  about  th'  price  av'  th'  fare,  bless  his  heart !" 


'twould  be  a  match.     He  niver 


n 


A  Romantic  Goat. 

M  HAPPY,  said  the  goat, 
to-day  ; 
Love's     sun    upon    me 
shines. 

And  just  in  passing  let  me  say 
I'm  full  of  valentines. 

Three  score   of  them  within   my 
pouch 

My  finest  visions  wake — 
I  feel  I'm  on  Joy's  softest  couch, 

A-brim  with  angel-cake. 

In  fact,  I'm   full  of  Love's  sweet 
pain  ; 

My  heart  beats  pit-a-pat 
Until  I  view  with  cold  disdain 

The  predigested  hat. 

With   bleeding   hearts  I'm  simply 

gay; 

Likewise  with  sonnets  pure. 
And  promises  I  trust  that  may 
Unbroken  long  endure. 

Oh,    "  love "    and    "  dove "    and 
'•  fate"  and  "mate" 

My  fancies  keep  afloat ; 
They  tenderly  assimilate 

And  gild  my  inner  goat 

Until  I  feel  a  beast  of  note 
That  quite  outpards  the  pard, 

And  not  the  C(jmmon  can-fed  goat 
Of  Mulligan's  back  yard. 


Distinguishing  the  Tint. 

AT  THE  seance  there  are 
marvelous  materializations. 
During  the  evening  a  spirit  of 
a  pale-pink  hue  emerges  from 
the  cabinet  and  floats  about  the 
room. 

"  What  can  that  be  ?"  asks  a 
trembling  newcomer. 

"  That  ?"  says  the  experi- 
enced investigator.  "  Oh,  that 
is  nothing  but  the  shade  of  a 
red  man." 

His  Little  Ruse. 

Mrs.  Oldwed  —  "  My  hus- 
band has  given  up  card-playing 
during  Lent." 

Mrs.  Jusiwed  (not  to  be 
outdone) — "And  mine  has 
given  up  smoking  those  lovely 
cigars  I  bought  him." 


1 


W^ 


HE   DIDN'T   WANT    A   PAIR. 
Proprietor — "So  you  wish  a  pair  of  trousers ?" 


ABSENT-MINnED  CUSTOMER- 

be  sufficient." 


'  No  ;  I  think  one  will 


A  Spring  Carol. 

/HEN  dandelions  dot  the  mead 
And  render  gay  the  verdant 
scenes, 
My  inner  self  is  glad  indeed — 
They   prophesy   a    mess  of 
greens. 


W»% 


^         ^^^^^^ 


TOO  SEVERE. 
First  tramp — "Sav.  Bill,  coitldn't  T  get  yer  ter  join  our  •knocker  club'?" 

Second  tramp — " W'ot's  de  'knocker  club'?"  .      „ 

First  tramp— "\\Tiy,  every  member  swears  ter  knock  off  work  five  minutes  after  he  gets  a  job. 
Second  tramp— " Leave  me  out !     I'd  sooner  git  knocked  in  de  head  dan  work  five  minutes.' 


'TWAS   FALSE. 


She  Crushed  Him. 

«/"•  ASSANDRA," 
sighs  our  hero, 
"  there  is  something 
within  me  that  thrills 
me  to  the  innermost  re- 
cesses of  my  soul.  I 
must  tell  you  of  the 
haunting  heaviness,  of 
the  doubt,  the  dread, 
the     pain     that     fills 

me  " 

"Percival,"  titters 
our  heroine,  "  have  you 
been  eating  green  ap- 
ples ?" 


AoENT — "The  finest  hair-tonic  in  the  world,  my  dear  madam.    Makes 
the  hair  grow  instanUy.     Allow  me 


One  Way  To  Avoid 
It. 

«r\EARIE,"  said 
Mrs.  Lovedovey, 
"  I  see  in  the  paper  that 
a  man  out  west  has  had 
his  stomach  removed. 
I  wonder  why  ?" 

"I  suppose," said  Mr. 
Loveydovey,  "  that  his 
wife  persists  in  trying 
to  cook  all  the  new- 
fangled things  she  reads 
about  in  the  recipe  de- 
partment of  the  Ladies' 
Home  Weekly." 


The  Reason. 

'  Your  cow  must  be  sick. 


The  farm  er- 
chew  her  cud." 

The  amateur  farmer — "  She  doesn't  have  *-"  -^ 
cud.     I  feed  her  with  predigested  hay." 


She  doesn't 


her 


y  as  per- 
fairly  lives  on  tobacco." 

Jtiiiipiippe — "  Why 
you  know." 


At  Mud  Knob. 

That  fellow  Jones  smokes  all  the  time. 


He 


Resourceful  Wo- 
man. 

((  iLl  Y  wife,"  says  the 
first  husband, 
"  bought  her  a  tailored 
suit  last  spring  and 
thought  it  would  do  to 
wear  this  fall." 

"  And  will  it  ?"  asks 
the  second  hus- 
band. 

"No;  but  she  is  sure 
that  she  can  buy  one 
this  fall  that  she  can 
wear  next  spring." 


hair.' 


-to  remove  my  hat  and  show  you  the  marvelous  effect  it  has  had  on  my 


of  course.     He  is  a  vegetarian, 


A  Stamp  Wasted. 

pETTISHLY  she 
stamped  her  foot. 
They  were  .standing  on 
the  corner.  He  had 
offended  her  in  some 
way.  Again  she 
stamped  her  foot. 

"  Well,"  he  said  slow- 
ly, "  here  is  a  letter-box, 
but  you  might  know 
you  can't  drop  your 
foot  in  it.  You  are 
simply  wasting  post- 
age." 


Varied  Experience. 

i«li/HAT  experience  have  you  had   as  a  cook  ?"    asked 
"      Mrs.  Dinsmore  of  the  applicant  for  the  situation. 
"  Twinty  places  in  three  mont's,  mum,"  replied  Bridget. 


A  Sign. 

Jack — "  He  must  be  a  military  man. 
Tom — "  What  makes  you  think  so  ?" 
fack — "  He  swears  like  a  trooper." 


His  Unlucky  Lapse. 

(I  I  HAD  a  good  job 
last  summer  but 
lost  it  on  account  of  my 
fool  absent  -  minded- 
ness,"  said  poor  old 
Seldum  Fedd,  pessimis- 
tically. I  was  actin'  as 
de  echo  fer  a  mountain 
hotel.  I  done  all  right 
till  one  moonlight  night, 
when  a  smart  guy  from 
de  city  hollered  '  Hello, 
Smith  !'  Durn  me !  I 
fergot  meself  an'  an- 
swered back,  '  Which 
Smith  do  you  mean  ?' " 

16 


But  the  absent-minded  agent  forgets 
her  exit  is  more  hurried  than  graceful. 


to  remove  all  the  hat-pins,  and 


An  Exciting  Tale. 

i<  A  S  an  attraction  and 
an  entertainment 
for  my  guests,"  said  the 
summer  landlord,  "I 
have  engaged  the  fa- 
mous missionary  lady 
to  lecture  on  '  How  I 
escaped  from  the  brig- 
ands.' " 

"  You  might  please 
them  more,"  said  the 
star  boarder,  "  if  you 
would  get  some  one  to 
lecture  on  '  How  to  es- 
cape from  the  summer- 
hotel  man.' " 


^ke-£j<f///c 


HOW   RUDE   OF   THE   PAINTER. 
Painter  (lo  Choily,  who  has  just  had  a  pot  of  ccruh-an  blue  drop  on  him) — "  Say,  young  feller, 
do  youse  t'iiik  youse  kin  walk  a«  ay  wid  our  paint  dat  way  ?      Youse's  got  about  a  buck's  wort'  dere, 
so  jest  cough  up  before  youse  gits  a  whang  on  de  lamp." 


Strong  Evidence. 

<<DUT,"  protests  the 
manager  of  the 
matrimonial  agency,  "  I 
don't  see  why  you  accuse 
me  of  being  a  bunco- 
steerer.  You  li  a  V  e  n  '  t 
found  any  green-goods, 
circulars  among  my 
papers." 

"  I  haven't  ?"  asks  the 
astute  detective.  "  How 
about  all  those  catalogue- 
lists  of  grass-widows  .■'" 

Envy. 

««ALAS!"  moaned  the 
pl.iin,  or  garden 
poet.  "  I  put  my  most 
soulful  thouglits  on  paper, 
but  my  messages  fall  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  the  un- 
thinking canaille.  They 
laugh  at  all  I  write." 

"  Alas  !"  moaned  the 
humorous  poet,  "  I  wisli 
I  had  your  luck  !" 


Much  Ado  About  Nix. 

Macbeth — "  How  now,  my  lord  ?  Methinks  yonder 
goes  a  band  o'  men  who  look  not  like  the  inhabitants  o' 
the  earth." 

Falstaff — "  By  heavings  !  and  they  carry  leathern  bags 
filled,  I  wot,  with  shilialahs." 

Belarius — "  A  thousand  times  no,  me  lud  ;  they  con- 
tain brassies  and  cleeks." 

Gaudi-riiis — "  And  niblicks." 

Arviragus — "  And  putters." 

Belarius — "  And  mashies." 

Macbeth — "  Egad  !  then  "tmust 
be  a  golf-club  from  Hoboken." 

The  jester  —  "Neigh,  neigh, 
old  boss  ;  'lis  the  Boston  tee 
party." 

Arviragus — "  Ho,  ho  !" 

Belarius — "  He,  he  !" 

Gauderius — "  Ha,  ha  !" 

Ancient  History  Fight. 

UANNIBAL  had  been  trying  in 
vain  to  draw  out  Fabius  to 
battle.    ; 

"Is  there  no  way,"  he  e.\- 
claimed  angrily,  "  of  making  the 
man  fight  ?" 

"  You  might  try  asking  him  to 
arbitrate,"  suggested  one  of  his 
generals. 

Soon  after  Cannal  was  fouglu 
and  the  Roman  forces  destroyed. 


An  Extremist. 

((  IT  is  very  commendable,"  said  the  Boston  lady,  "  for 
one  to  mortify  the  flesh  during  Lent.  Abstention 
from  nutriment  that  is  abundantly  supplied  with  calorics 
and  proteids  is  no  doubt  beneficial  to  the  system  and 
should  inculcate  reflections  that  will  develop  the  subliminal 
consciousness  and  encourage  the  transcendentality  of  the 
spirit ;  but  when  a  person  refrains  from  partaking  of  beans 
for  a  period  of  forty  days,  as  did  Mrs.  Highbrough,  I  am 
inclined  to  give  her  the  appellation  of  fanatic." 


D 


RUG-STORE  complexions 
cover  a  multitude  of  freckles. 


HOW   THEY   WORKED   IT. 

Bill  Bitters— -'As  I  said  before,  stranger,  Hank  an'  I,  here,  has  carried  on  some' 
purty  nifty  deals." 

Stranger — "Working  hand-in-hand,  T suppose?" 

Bill  Bitters— "Thet's  it— handin' hands."  : 


An  Ingenious  Villain. 

|HA !"  growled  Puddiford  Suggs,  the  villain,  as  he 
strode  from  the  wings  to  be  confronted  by  Tithering- 
ton  Botts,  the  hero. 

"  Aha   yourself !"    retorted    Titherington    Botts. 
"  What  are  you  up  to  now  ?" 

"  To  practice  me   villainy,  rash   youth  !"    replied 
Puddiford  Suggs. 

Slowly  from  the  opposite  wings  came   the   poor 
heroine,  beating  her  way  in  the  face  of  a  pitiless  snow- 
storm.    She  passed  up  stage,  followed  by  the  gaze  of  the  two  men. 

"  Listen  !"    came  the  hoarse  whisper  of  Titherington  Botts.     "  You  shall 


A  MATTER  OF  CHOICE. 
CUK — "  Wow  !     I  don't  know  what  it  is  fastened  to  my  tail,  but 


The 
gimme  a  tin  can  any  old  time.' 


HER    SYMPATHIES    WITH    THE 
MOUSE. 

Boarder — "Mrs.  Stewdprune,  I  tound 
a  mouse  in  the  milk  this  morning." 

Mrs.  Stewdprune — "Oh,  the  poor 
thing  !     Was  it  dead  ?" 

But  Titherington  Botts,  our  hero, 
dashed  off  the  stage  to  change  his  cos- 
tume for  the  great  foiling  scene  in  the 
third  and  last  act. 


not  persecute  her.  I 
have  foiled  you  again, 
wretch  that  you  are  !" 

"  Foiled  me,  eh  ?" 
sneered  Puddiford 
Suggs.  "  Foiled  me  ? 
So  ?     And  how  ?" 

"  I  have  hidden  your 
cigarette  papers,  and 
you  cannot  practice 
your  nefarious  designs 
without  the  aid  of  a 
lighted  cigarette." 

With  a  maddening 
laugh,  Puddiford  Suggs 
reached  into  the  midst 
of  the  snow-storm, 
grasped  one  of  the  larg- 
est flakes,  and  rolled 
his  tobacco  in  it.  Light- 
ing the  afifair,  he  stalked 
along  the  trail  of  the 
heroine,  chuckling  like 
a  fiend  incarnate. 


AN  AWFUL  EXPOSURE. 

Cholly  was   cutting  quite  a  dash   along   the         an  unfriendly  gust  of  wind  disclosed  the  fact 

that  he  was  doing  some  bachelor  marketing. 


avenue  until 


^•y^i.'S^ 


A  COUNTRY  CLUB. 


Of  No  Avail. 


11 


'*  \i/E  MUST  stand  up  for  our  riglits  in  the  street-cars  !" 


w 


COULD,  BUT  HE  COLT^DN'T. 
Chimmie — "Gee  !     De  bo=s  said  if  I  lost  any  uv  dese 
collars  an'  cuffs  I'd  be  collared  and  aiffed." 


Could  Afford  To  Wait. 


shouts   the   impassioned   orator   at    the    n.eeting  A  NGRILY  the  agriculturist  glares  at  the  ram  which  has 

called  to  formulate  a  protest  against  the  overcrowding  of  "     butted  him  through  the  side  of  the  barn, 

passengers  on  the  lines  of  transportation.  ..  Drat  ye  !"  he  e.xclaims  ;    "  drat  ye  !   I'd  sell  ye  to  the 

"  We  do  stand  up,"  cries  a  little  man  in  a  back  seat,  butcher  this  very  day  if  it  wasn't  I  could  wait  another  week 

"  but  we  don't  git  'em  !"  and  get  forty  cents  a  pound  for  ye  as  spring  lamb." 


HIS  REASON. 
Keeper — "WTiat  makes  you  think  we  do  not  take  good  care  of  that  wolf?" 
Visitor— '"Cause  pa  says  he  has  A  bard  time  keepin"  him  away  from  our  door." 


ANOTHER   BOUT   WITH   BOSTON. 
That  Boston  Bdy  {blc-ss  ^//« /)— "Pardmi  me,  but  during  tie  heated  dis- 
cussion you  just  held  with  ynur  sislcr  I  lieard  you  command  iier  tu  -stop  cliewing 
the  rag.'     Don't  ycm  think   it  would  have  been  more  gentlemanly  to  have  said, 
'  Desist  masticating  the  fabric  '  ?" 


m 


The  Wash-out  on  the  Roof. 

{  With  an  i.  o.  u,  to  one  of  the  new  school  of  poesy,) 
[CROSS  the  r<X)fs,  secured  upon  a  line, 
The    Monday   wash    sags   round    and 
flaps  all  day. 
No  matter  what  the  weather,  rain  or  shine, 
When   Bridget  hangs   it  there   "it's  put" 
to  stay. 

The  evening  shadows  creep  upon  the  wall ; 

The  yellow  dog  is  chained  up  all  the  night. 
I  hear  across  the  fence-top  some  one  call, 

"  Haul   in   the  line  and  take  the  togs  from 
sight !" 

And  thus  I  sit  and  let  my  eyelids  down  ; 

My  fancy  wanders  seaward  witliout  fear. 
And  thus  a  v<iyagc  I  ixiakt^while  still  in  town 

And  save  the  price  of  many  a  stein  of  beer. 

A  Secondary  Consideration. 

THE  demure  cometiienne  has  closed  with 
'  the  impresario,  and  agreed  to  create 
the  leading  role  in  the  new  comic  opera. 

"  And  now,"  says  the  impresario,  "  what 
figure  would  you  wsnt  for  the  season  ?" 

"  Oh,"  she  titters,  with  affectation  of 
embarrassment,  "  had  we  not  best  leave 
that  to  the  costumer  ?" 


pVERY  time  an  old  bachelor  hears  a  b.nby  cry  he  takes  a 
fresh  grip  on  his  resolution  to  remain  single. 


,N  absent-minded  woman  is  one  who  forgets  herself  and 

buvs  things  when  slie  goes  shopping. 


A  Legal  Techni- 
cality. 

I  INCLE  EPHRA- 
IM  was  about 
to  be  tried  for 
"  walkin'  disorderly  [ 
befo'  de  chu  ch,"  and 
fearing  high-handed 
procedure  on  the  part 
of  the  board  of  dea- 
cons, he  pleaded, 

"  Bredcleren  an  " 
sisteren,  it  'pear  ter 
me  laik  we  ought  ter 
be  reg'lar'bout  dese 
prognostications,  so 
no  scandiljzemeiu 
kin  cum  on  our  be- 
lubbed  boa'd  ob 
deekins.  It's  'bleeg- 
ed  ter  be  mo'  laik 
white  folks  ter  'pint 
a  reg'lar  quorum  ter 
set  on  dis  yere  case." 

Thedeacons.  how- 
ever, sternly  refused 
to  shirk  their  re- 
sponsibility, and  Un- 
cle Eph  was  duly 
found  guilty  of  steal- 
ing the  pastor's  hog. 


A  SAD   CASE. 

Man — "  Why  do  you  weep,  my  boy  ?" 

Boy — "  Please,  sir.  me  fadder  's  drinkin',  an'  me  mudder  ain't  got  a  cent  in  de  house,  an'  ter- 
morrer  's  me  birt'day,  an'  she  don't  know  what  we  are  goin'  ter  do  about  givin'  me  a  reception." 


ARTIST   EXPECTED  TO  BUY  IT. 
Editor — "  I'll  take  this ;  but  why  did  you  name  it  '  His  First  Square  Meal ' 
Artist — "  Well,  you  see,  I  expected  to  sell  it.  " 


The  Burglao-'s  Vacation. 

THE  BURGLAR  decided  that  he  needed  a  vacation. 
It  was  true  that  business  was  never  better,  and 
that  there  was  a  long  list  of  easy  jobs  on  hand; 
but,  as  he  said  to  his  wife, 

"  All  the  wise  guys  saj'  a  rest  in  the  country  in  the 
summer  does  a  man  a  world  of  good.  He  works  better 
when  he  comes  back,  and  lives  longer  for  the  change." 

The  burglar's  wife  agreed  with  him,  and  five  minutes 
later  he  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Mossybank  House  for 
rates.    He  received  the  following  reply  a  few  days  later : 


"  Dere  sir — I  take  my  pen  in  hand  to 
informe  you  that  we  kin  put  you  and  your 
family  up  for  Auggust.  We  hav  eight 
kows,  fortie  chickins,  seventeen  pigs,  four 
dogs  and  six  cats,  so  you  kin  see  we  hav 
plentie  of  fresh  milk  and  meat  on  the 
farm.  You  give  the  names  of  Theodore 
Roosevelt  and  John  Smith  for  refference. 
I  never  heard  tell  of  Roosevelt,  but  any 
one  named  John  Smith  must  be  honest,  so 
his  refference  is  all  righte." 

About  six  weeks  later  the  burglar  re- 
turned to  the  city  looking  a  new  man.  He 
declared  he  never  felt  better  in  his  life, 
but  in  telling  of  his  vacation  a  look  of  pain 
came  in  his  eyes  as  he  said, 

"Up  to  the  last  week  we  just  took 
solid  comfort  and  laid  on  the  fat.  Then 
we  got  a  bump  that  sickened  us  of  coun- 
try life." 

"  What  happened?"  he  was  asked. 
"Whj-,"   he   said  fiercely,  "some  mean,    low-down, 
white-livered  scoundrel  of  a  thief  got  into  my  room  and 
stole  two  hundred  dollars  and  the  old  lady's  diamonds!" 

A.   B.    LEWIS. 

Her  Idea  of  a  Wooden  Leg. 

Hewitt — "  Is  your  wife  a  woman  of  practical  ideas?" 
Jewett — "  Well,  I  could  imagine  that  if  I  lost  a  leg 
she  would  think  that  the  vacancy  could  be  filled  by  tak- 
ing one  of  the  legs  out  of  a  pine  table  that  we  no  longer 
use." 


THE  LOGIC  OF  DELAY. 
*'  Ethelbert   Murphy,  do  you   think   it's  quite  right   for  your  little  brother  to  go  in  bathing  on  Sunday  ? 
you  think  he  might  have  waited  till  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  What'd  'a"  bin  de  use  ?     He'd  'a'  needed  it  woise." 


Do 


Better. 

*t|    SUPPOSE,"  said  the  beautiful  girl,  "that  you 
often  burn  the  midnight  oil." 
"No,"    replied  the  poet.     "I  hang  my  hat  on  the 
door-knob,  so  the  landlady  can't  look  through  the  key- 
hole and  catch  me  burning  gas." 

But  Not  To  Pay  Back. 

Dinks — "  I  see  Rouge  has  bought  an  automobile.  I 
didn't  think  he  had  sufficient  means  to  do  that." 

Winks — "  Oh,  he  has  all  sorts  of  means  of  borrowing 
money,  and  just  as  many  means  of  spending  it." 


IT  ALWAYS  BREAKS   DOWN. 
**  I  think  some  long  walks  would  do  me  a  lot  of  good." 
"  All  right,     ril  take  you  out  in  my  automobile  a  few  times," 

Cause  and  Effect. 

Teacher — ^"  Willie,  why  don't  you  keep  your  hair 
combed?" 

Willie — "  'Cause  I  ain't  got  no  comb." 

Teacher — "Why  don't  you  ask  your  mamma  to  buy 
you  one?" 

Willie — "  'Cause  then  I'd  have  ter  keep  my  hair 
combed." 


A  SWELL. 

A  crocodile  thought  he'd  be  swell. 
So  he  tied  to  his  tail  a  big  bell. 

When  he  walked  by  the  Nile 
You  could  hear  it  a  mile — 
And  it  was  becoming  as  well. 


A  TWIN   MYSTIFICATION. 


„.A^.*'i' 


I.  Theodore  Roose'velt  Jackson — "  Foh  de  Lawd'a 
sake,  who  eber  seed  a  basket  walkin'   long  on  a  fence!" 


2.  Mrs.  T.  R.  J.— "Explain  this,  sah I" 


m 


Poor  Judgment. 

OUR  proposal," 
sighed  the  young 
woman,  gazing 
upon  the  man  who  knelt 
before  her,  "is  very 
l)eauliful  ;  but  it  sounds 
to  me  like  the  one  Hec- 
tor de  Bauvilleine  made 
to  Genevra  Colincourt  in 
•  The  Romance  of  Old 
Chizzlewick  Castle.'  " 

"  It  is,"  confessed 
the  swain  ;  '•  it  is  almost 
word  for  word  the 
same  proposal.  You 
see,  it  seemed  to  me 
that  it  was  the  best  form 
I  had  ever  seen,  so  I 
adopted  it." 

"  Well,  did  you  read 
the  rest  of  the  story  ?" 

"  No ;  only  to  see 
that  slie  accepted  him. 
That's  as  far  as  I  read." 

"  You  do  not  know, 
then,  that  Hector  de 
Bauvilleine  ran  away 
with  the  cook  after  steal- 
ing all  of  Genevra's  jewels  and  money  ?  Please  go  away. 
I  shudder  when  I  think  of  what  I  have  escaped." 


m 


MUST   BE  DRV. 
"  Have  ycz  had  yer  breaklast  yit,  Moike?" 
"  Not  J.  dhrop." 


"  Into.xicating  ? 
saw  her.     The  dr 


■   sniffs 
ess  was 


the 
a  m 


Literary  Names, 

[|ES,"  says  the  fond 
mamma;  "  I  think 
we  picked  real 
pretty  names  for  the 
twins.  Pa  got  them 
out  of  a  book.  I  always 
did  like  a  name  with  a 
literary  tone  to  it." 

"  And  what  do  you 
call  the  little  darlings  ?" 

"Fauna  and  Flora. 
It's  from  a  book  in  the 
library  down  town  that 
tells  about  '  The  Fauna 
and  Flora  of  the  west- 
ern hemisphere." " 

Spirited  Criticism. 
«/UABEL  SNOGGS 
wore  a  claret-col- 
ored gown  with  ver- 
mouth braid  and  rye 
ribbon  and  bourbon 
laces,"  says  the  first- 
young  woman.  "  And  I 
heartl  Orville  Bings  tell 
her  she  was  perfectly  in- 
toxicating.    Tee-hee !" 

second   young  woman.     "  I 

le  too  tight  for  her  !" 


1  AReweRTo.>j-j 


SEVERELY   PUNISHED. 
"  So  Silas  was  charged  with  havin'  seven  wives.     Was  th"  judge  severe  on  him  ?" 
"  Awful  !     He  discharged  him  with  all  seven  of  his  wives  waitin'  fer  him  in  th'  corridor." 


i 


Unparalleled. 

EE  that  woman 
going  down  the 
aisle  ?"  aslsS  the 
salesman  of  the  floor- 
superintendent,  whom 
he  has  been  frantically 
signaling. 

■'  Yes.  What  about 
her — shoplifter  ?" 

"  No  ;  crazy." 

"  Crazy  ?" 

"  Undouljtedly.  She 
came  here  and  bought 
goods  enougli  for  three 
dresses  without  asking 
me  to  unroll  more  than 
four  bolts  of  material 
and  without  saying 
that  she'd  take  samples 
of  everything  on  the 
shelves  and  come  back 
later." 


m 


"HE  DIDN'T   KNOW  IT   WAS   TOADED." 


His  Status. 

N  my  native 
land,"  explains 
the  pundit, 
"  humanity  is  divided 
into  castes.  Thus, 
one  family  will  do  noth- 
ing but  menial  labor, 
because  their  caste  pre- 
scribes and  proscribes 
their  occupation.  An- 
other family  will  do  no 
menial  work  for  the 
same  reason." 

"  Then,"  timidly  asks 
the  earnest  young  lady 
who  hopes  to  gather 
sufficient  material  for 
a  club  paper  on  soci- 
ology, "  I  suppose  the 
people  who  put  mortar 
on  the  walls  belong  to 
the  plaster  cast,  ilo 
thev  ?" 


i  % 


THE   VITAL   REASON. 
She — "  Folks  say  you  only  married  me  because  I  had  money." 
He — "  Nonsense  !     My  principal  reason  for  marrying  you  was  because  I  had  none." 


r~: — -_  The  Diners. 

^•oodI,"  jji  'l^HE  gambler  should  dine 

^^      W        *    on  steaks. 

The  policeman  on  beets. 
The  actor  on  ham — and  duck- 
eggs. 
The  woodsman  on  chops. 
i^  The  critic  on  roasts. 
The  jeweler  on  carrots. 
The  electrician  on  currants. 
The  wife  on  tongue. 
The  husband  on  pocket-book 

rolls. 
Sweethearts    should   dine   on 
venison,  because  they  are  deer  to  each  other. 

Oh,  What  a  Language! 

WHAT  a  language — what  a  language  it  is  that  we 
speak !  How  little  we  may  depend  upon  a  rule 
once  learned !  We  note  the  word  that  is  formed  ap- 
parently exactly  as  is  some  other  word  whose  meaning 
we  have  been  taught  to  ascertain  by  the  application  of 
certain  rules,  and,  behold !  we  make  an  egregious — nay, 
even  a  ridiculous — blunder. 

For  instance,  we  say  a  man  has  been  disarmed,  mean- 
ing that  he  has  had  his  arms  taken  away  from  him.  But 
when  we  speak  of  the  prisoner  after  the  disarming  scrim- 
mage as  being  disheveled,  we  do  not  mean  that  they  also 
took  his  hevel  away  from  him.     Of  course  not. 

We  mention  the  dehorned  cow,  meaning  that  the  cow 
has  been  taken  while  a  calf  and  robbed  of  her  horns. 
Yet  when  we  speak  of  a  man  who  has  been  defeated,  we 
do  not  refer  to  a  man  who,  while  a  calf,  was  tied  up  and 
robbed  of  his  feat  or  his  feet. 

We  say  that  Anne  Boleyn  and  other  ladies  were  be- 


CERTAINLY  NOT. 

"  Did  Jones  lake  his  wife  with  him  on  his  trip  ?** 
"  No.     He  was  traveling  (or  pleasure." 

headed,  meaning  that  they  were  placed  upon  a  block  and 
had  their  heads  chopped  off.  But  take,  again,  the  word 
befuddled — we  speak  of  a  man  as  being  in  such  condi- 
tion. But  do  we  mean  that  he  lay  down  on  a  block  and 
had  his  fuddle  chopped  off?     Certainly,  certainly  not. 

So  you  see  how  untrustworthy  this  language  of  ours  is. 

Class  is  dismissed.  Take  the  next  two  pages  for  the 
next  lesson.  s,  w.  g. 


RAISING  CHICKENS. 
Uncle  Cy  (as  the  brooder-lamp  explodes) — "  There  ain't  no  disputin'  thet  you  hev  demonstrated  thet  ye  kin  raise 
chicks  with  one  o'  them  machines," 


Bt    "\V.    v.    XESBIT.  ItiUSTRATED    BT   J.    H.    SMITH. 


T  CHANCED  one  evening  that  as 
Hafa  Nuther  sat  in  the  door  of  his 
tent,  smoking  his  bismillah  or  his 
nargileh,  or  one  of  those  queer  ori- 
ental water-bottles  that  you  buy  in 
the  department-store  and  swear  at 
in  your  home,  there  came  across  the 
spreading  prairie  a  strange  and  mot- 
ley company  of  people. 

"  What  have  we  here  ?"  said  Hafa 
ITuther,  taking  his  purse  from  his 
pocket  and  sitting  upon  it. 

The  strange  and  motley  company 
of  people  came  slowly  across  the 
plain,  until  at  last  they  reached  the 
tent  of  Hafa  Nuther.  The  leader 
approached  Hafa  Nuther  and  asked, 
"  Where's  the  rest  of  the  outfit  ?" 

•'  I  am  the  rest  of  it,  sir,"  was  the  courteous  reply. 
"  I  am  also  the  other  part  of  it  ;  but  I  hardly  understand 
you." 


"  Pardon  me,  but  is  not  this  a  tent-show  .''' 

"  A  what  ?" 

"  A  canvas  Tom  show,  or  a  reppytoire  ?" 

"  Reppytoire  ?  Sir,  the  nearest  thing  to  that  I  have  is 
a  chiffonier  I  purchased  from  an  amiable  individual  who 
blew  in  here  on  a  cyclone  one  evening  and  was  compelled 
to  part  with  the  chiffonier  because  his  team  had  been  car- 
ried over  into  the  ne.xt  state,  and  he  must  betake  himself 
in  that  direction  also,  to  see  that  they  got  rubbed  down 
and  fed  as  usual." 

By  this  time  the  rest  of  the  crowd  of  strangers  were  in 
a  circle  about  the  two,  and  one  of  them  interrupted, 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Bill.  This  party  isn't  no  perfessional. 
I  take  it  that  he  just  camps  out  here.  Isn't  that  right, 
perfessor  ?" 

■•  It  is  right.  But  I  do  not  camp  out  and  I  am  not  a 
professor,"  mildly  answered  Hafa  Nuther,  coiling  his  tub- 
ing about  his  katishah,  or  wady  halfa,  or  whatever  kind  of 
a  glass  pipe  it  is,  and  rising  to  his  feet,  at  the  same  time 
deftly  lifting  his  purse  and  dropping  it  into  the  bosom  of 
his  burnoose. 


"  '  THE   HONEST   WATCHMAN. 


HAFA   NUTHER   AND    THE   TROUPERS. 


"  Then,"  said  the  second  speaker,  who  was  a  short 
man  with  a  blue-blacl<  beard  indication  on  his  cheelcs, 
"  permit  me  to  introduce  us.  We  are  members  of  the 
Rollicliing  Ramblers'  comic  opera  and  extravaganza  com- 
pany, and  we  have,  perforce,  been  compelled  to  trudge 
across  the  prairies  to  our  next  stand  owing  to  a  railroad 
wreck.  Seeing  your  commodious  tent,  we  made  bold  to 
come  over  and  pass  the  time  of  day,  being  glad  of  the 
chance  to  see  a  human  being  with  whom  we  did  not  feel 
the  necessity  of  quarreling." 

"  Rollicking  Ramblers  ?"  echoed  Hafa  Nuther,  shov- 
ing his  hubble-bubble — that's  it — hubble-bubble  back  into 
the  tent.  "  I  see  you  are  rambling,  but  I  have  not  as 
yet  observed  any  rollicking." 

"  We  only  rollick  for  the  regular  price  of  admission," 
explained  the  original  speaker,  who  was  the  manager  of 
the  company. 

"  Price  of  admission  ?"  asked  Hafa  Nuther.     "  Ah,  I 


imitate  anybody  so  well  that  thereafter  they  would  seem 
to  be  imitating  you." 

"  Sing  your  song  for  him,  Lizzie,"  suggested  the  mana- 
ger, who  had  looked  into  the  tent  and  discovered  that 
there  was  plenty  of  food,  canned  and  otherwise,  within. 

Lizzie — on  the  bills  she  was  Mile.  Lizette  de  Mirph^ — 
arose,  shook  out  her  skirts  and  began  : 

"  In  a  city  far  away  there  dwelt 
A  lad  so  young  and  fair, 
With  honest  eyes  and  willing  hands, 
And  softly  c-u-r-1-i-n-g  hair-ah. 
He  was  employed  by  night  to  be 
A  bank  watchman  on  pay, 
•  And  when  the  wicked  cashier  sought 

To  bribe  him  he  did  s-a-ay-ah  : 

"  '  No,  sir,  I  spum-ah  your  gold ; 
No,  sir,  I  spum-ah  your  gold. 
1  hope  to  be 


"  '  Two  BAD.'  ' 


begin  to  understand.  You  are  in  the  show  business.  I, 
too,  was  at  one  time  in  the  profession  of  uplifting  and 
educating  the  masses.     I  had  a  trained  comet." 

"  You  had  ?     And  where  is  it  now  ?" 

"  It  went  up." 

"  That's  the  way  all  shows  go,"  put  in  the  second  co- 
median, who  had  been  moodily  chewing  some  clover. 

"  Might  I  inquire  the  nature  of  your  exhibition  ?"  said 
Hafa  Nuther,  motioning  them  all  to  take  seats  on  the 
grass. 

"  Well,"  said  the  spokesman,  "  we  give  a  combined 
production  of  singing,  dancing  and  gags,  together  with 
some  acrobatics  and  moving  pictures." 

"  I  do  my  famous  imitation  of  the  leading  comedi- 
ennes," said  a  little  girl  with  saucy  black  eyes,  gazing 
soulfuUy  at  Hafa. 

"  I  am  sure,"  murmured  Hafa  Nuther,  "  that  you  could 


Honest  and  free 
When  I  like  you  am  old-ah. 
Though  I'm  a  lad, 
Still  I'm  not  bad ' — 
'Tis  the  lesson  that  the  wicked  cashier  was  told." 

"  There's  two  more  verses,"  she  explained.  "  The  next 
one  tells  how  the  cashier  grabbed  him  by  the  throat  and 
jammed  him  against  the  wall,  and  I  sing  the  chorus  just 
as  if  I  was  chokin',  and  you  bet  I  get  a  big  hand  on  that. 
And  then  the  last  verse  tells  how  the  cashier  repents  and 
quits  robbing,  and  I  have  a  boy  in  the  gallery  who  sings  a 
duet  with  me  for  the  chorus.     Oh,  it  goes  great !" 

"  A  highly  moral  song,  and  very  instructive,"  said  Hafa 
Nuther.  "  But  do  not  the  rest  of  the  ladies  and  gentle- 
men do  anything  ?" 

"  Not  on  an  empty  stomach,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
manager. 


HAFA    NUTHER   AND    THE    TROUPERS. 


"  Well.  I'd  hate  to  have  them  perform  their  dances  on 
mine  when  it  was  full." 

"  Shake,  old  man  !"  shouted  the  principal  comedian. 
"  That  carries  me  back  to  the  good  old  days." 

However,  Hafa  Nuther  brought  out  a  goodly  supply  of 
eatables  and  the  company  lunched  joyously  with  him. 
After  the  repast  the  ladies  of  the  chorus  sang  and  danced 
and  gave  the  Amazonian  march,  and  the  little  black-eyed 
girl  sang  "  Just  because  she  winked,"  and  "  Mah  honey  is 
a-makin'  money,"  both  of  which  songs  pleased  Hafa 
Nuther  immensely.  He  also  almost  broke  his  hubble- 
bubble  by  falling  over  it  in  a  paroxysm  of  laughter  when 
the  second  comedian  got  the  principal  comedian  on  the 


joke  about  "  Have  you  heard  about  the  three  boiled  eggs  ? 
No  ?     Two  bad  !" 

While  he  was  yet  shaking  w-ith  laughter  the  troupe 
arose  and  bade  him  good-bye. 

Hafa  Nuther  sat  in  the  door  of  his  tent,  relit  his  water- 
pipe  and  smoked  thoughtfully  as  they  trudged  away. 
Suddenly  he  arose  and  called, 

"  Say,  did  you  hear  that  song  about  the  bank  cashier 
and  the  watchman  ?     Two  bad  !" 

Then,  until  late  in  the  evening,  he  smoked  and  thought 
and  thought  and  smoked.  When  he  arose  to  seek  his 
couch  he  sighed,  "  I'd  like  to  be  as  happy  as  they  are,  but 
I  shouldn't  like  to  be  as  hungry  as  they  were." 


HAFA   NUTHER   AND    THE    SCIENTIST. 


NE  evening  Hafa  Nuther  was  sitting 
in  the  door  of  his  tent,  resting  from 
the  labors  of  the  day,  when  a  dusty 
traveler  approached  and,  making  a 
courteous  bow,  inquired  after  his 
health. 

"  I    am    quite    well,"   said    Hafa 
Nuther.     And  you  ?" 
"  So,  so,"  said  the  other,  dropping  upon  the  grass  and 
heaving  a  sigh  of  relief     "  It's  wearing  on  the  constitution 
— my  work." 

"  Might  I  inquire  what  vocation  you  pursue  ?" 
"  Just  at  present  I'm   not   pursuing  a  vocation.     I'm 
pursuing  butterflies." 
"  Butterflies  ?" 


"  Yes.  I  work  for  the  government,  and  it  has  sent  me 
out  here  to  chase  down  the  gay  and  festive  butterfly  ;  or, 
rather,  a  gay  and  festive  butterfly  which  has  never' been 
seen  so  far  as  is  known." 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  scarcely  understand  you,"  said 
Hafa  Nuther. 

"  Well,  it's  this  way  :  The  chief  assistant  superintend- 
ent of  insectorial  research  got  to  figuring  around  among 
the  cases  of  butterflies  and  he  discovered  that  there  was 
one  variety  that  carried  its  front  legs  crossed  when  flying 
and  another  that  held  them  straight  out.  So  he  argues 
that  nature  always  works  in  a  series,  and  if  we  look  long 
enough  we  will  find  a  butterfly  that  holds  its  front 
legs  bent  at  the  knees  when  in  full  flight.  Hence,  there 
is  an    appropriation  of  fifty   thousand  dollars  and  I  am 


"  'SENT  TO  CATCH   THE   GAY   AND   FESTIVE   BUTTERFLY.'" 


searching  for  the  bent-legged  butterfly.  Have  you  seen 
him  ?" 

"Not  that  I  remember.  But  since  you  are  a  scientist 
and  a  government  official  I  must  beg  that  you  accept  of 
my  poor  hospitality  so  long  as  your  labors  keep  you  in 
this  vicinity." 

The  stranger  thankfully  accepted,  and  introduced  him- 
self more  completely  by  telling  Hafa  Nuther  that  his  name 
was  J.  B.  Henry  CoUingham,  Ph.D.,  L.S.,  C.O.D. 

"  I  have  always  been  deeply  interested  in  science,"  con- 
fessed Hafa  Nuther,  after  Mr.  CoUingham  had  filled  his 
pipe. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  to  be  interested  in,"  answered  the 
other.  "  In  fact,  as  we  go  through  life  v^^e  learn  that  it  is 
always  excellent  to  be  interested  in  a  good  thing,  do  we 
not  ?" 

Hafa  Nuther  gravely  agreed  in  the  statement. 

"  Now,"  continued  the  scientist,  "  I  have  always  devoted 
myself  to  studies  along  lines  that  I  believed  would 
benefit  mankind.  Why,  the  year  after  I  left  college — I  am  a 
graduate  of  Yarvard,  by  the  way — I  succeeded  in  carrying 
to  success  a  plan  to  cross  the  ordinary  hen  with  the 
mosquito." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?"  asked  Hafa  Nuther,  striking  a 
match  and  touching  up  his  tobacco  again. 

"  Eggs.  You  know,  in  the  course  of  the  summer  the 
common,  every-day  mosquito  will  lay  93,654,822  eggs. 
The  ordinary  hen  will  produce  something  like  one  hun- 
dred. I  figured  that  the  henquito,  as  I  called  the  new 
breed,  would  lay  at  least  75,000,000  eggs,  and  even  if  I 
only  had  ten  or  fifteen  hens  I  could  relieve  any  egg  famine 
that  ever  afflicted  humanity." 

"  Noble  ambition,"  commented  Hafa  Nuther,  poking  a 
straw  down  his  pipe-stem  to  clear  it. 

"  Sure  it  was.     But  it  didn't  work." 

"  Didn't  ?" 

"  Nope.  I  don't  know  where  the  trouble  came  in,  but 
instead  of  combining  the  egg-laying  propensities  of  the  two 
species,  the  chickens  that  resulted  were  provided  with  bills 
ten  feet  long,  and  I  had  to  kill  them  all  because  they  did 
nothing  but  buzz  around  and  bite  inoffensive  strangers." 

Hafa  Nuther  gave  him  a  searching  look  before  mur- 
muring, "  Remarkable  !" 

"  Then  I  had  another  project,"  went  on  the  scientist. 
"  I  managed  to  produce  a  variety  of  oyster-plant  that  had 
shells  on  it.  Did  that  by  sowing  lots  of  phosphate  and 
bone  dust  about  the  beds  where  the  oyster-plant  grew, 
and  the  shells  really  were  splendid.  Looked  just  like  the 
real  thing.  '  Had  to  give  it  up,  though." 

"  You  don't  say." 

"  Fact.  Unprincipled  scoundrels  got  on  to  my  secret, 
robbed  my  garden  and  sold  the  shell  oyster-plant  as  mid- 


get cocoanuts.  Couldn't  stand  for  that.  Destroyed  my 
plans  and  specifications  and  exposed  the  swindlers." 

"  Noble  youth." 

"  Thank  you.  Well,  the  next  thing  I  tried  was  a 
humanitarian  project,  pure  and  simple.  Cross  bred  light- 
ning-bugs and  June-bugs  so  that  the  June-bugs  would 
have  a  light  to  carry  around  with  them  at  night  and  keep 
them  from  bumping  against  the  walls  and  ceilings  when 
they  got  into  a  bedroom  and  tried  to  get  out  again." 

"  That  shows  a  kind  heart." 

"  Sure.  That  certainly  turns  the  X-rays  on  my  dispo- 
sition.    But  it  wouldn't  go,  either." 

"I  should  have  thought  it  would." 

"  No.  You  see,  when  my  illuminated  June-bugs  got 
into  houses  the  ignorant  people  thought  at  first  it  was  light- 
ning, and  then  when  they  learned  what  it  was  they  claimed 
that  the  June-bugs  kept  the  room  so  light  that  sleep  was 
impossible." 

"  And  did  you  abandon  the  enterprise  simply  because 
of  that  ?" 

"Oh,  no.  But  some  capitalists  got  hold  of  me  and 
induced  me  to  raise  about  a  million  of  the  self-lighting 
June-bugs  and  sell  them  to  cities  as  substitutes  for  electric 
lights.  You  see,  the  bugs  would  fly  through  the  trees  in 
the  parks  and  shed  a  soft  radiance  over  the  scene  that 
made  the  effect  positively  entrancing." 

"  Yet  I  can't  see  how  that  failed." 

"  It  didn't  fail.  The  society  for  the  prevention  of 
cruelty  to  animals  argued  that  a  bug  was  an  animal  and 
got  the  courts  to  sustain  the  argument  and  then  had  me 
fined  for  keeping  the  June-bugs  on  duty  all  night." 

"  That  was  discouraging." 

"  You're  right.  And  so  then  I  went  into  the  govern- 
ment service,  and  here  I  am,  forty  miles  from  a  post-office 
and  my  pay  cheque  waiting  me  there.  Might  I  be  so 
bold  as  to  presume  upon  your  friendship  for  me  by  asking 
you  for  a  small  advance  until  I  can  go  there  and  get  my 
salary  ?" 

Hafa  Nuther  looked  meditatively  into  the  eyes  of  the 
scientist. 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  said  softly,  "but  your  pipe  has  gone 
out." 

"  Why,"  replied  the  scientist,  "  it  is  still  smoking." 

"  Your  pipe  has  gone  out,"  repeated  Hafa  Nuther, 
making  a  gracious  bow  and  entering  his  tent.  Soon  he 
heard  the  footsteps  of  the  scientist  gradually  fading  away 
into  the  silence. 

"  A  little  bit  more,"  mused  Hafa  Nuther,  "  and  he 
would  have  been  trying  to  graft  something  around  here." 

However,  it  pained  him  for  several  days  to  think 
that  there  could  be  people  who  thought  he  looked  so 
easy. 


^1^       ^S§^       ^ss^ 


THE  HEARTLESS 

.     BUNCOING 
or  UNCLE  BAYJD 

BY      EB.  MOTT 

I1.1.ITSTBATKD  BT  J.  M.  FLAGG. 


<=f'-^pn?^ 


SEEN  right  away  that  there 
was  somethin'  uncom- 
mon the  matter  with 
Uncle  David  Beckendar- 
ter,  'cause  he  had  fergot 
to  put  the  corncob  stop- 
per back  into  the  jug  and 
to  set  the  jug  behind  tlie 
door  when  he  seen  me 
comin'  in.  Either  that, 
I  says  to  myself,  or  else 
he's  been  to  meetin',  seen 
the  error  of  his  ways,  and 
has  repented  and  is  goin' 
to  ask  me  to  git  a  tum- 
bler out  o'  the  cubberd 
and  j'ine  him  ;  'cause  he  hadn't  never  fergot  himself  so 
before.  But  he  didn't  ask  me  to  do  nothin'  o'  the  sort, 
and  he  come  to  himself  with  a  jerk,  and  shoved  the 
cork  in  the  jug  and  sot  it  away  so  quick  that  I  seen 
with  a  sorrowin'  heart  that  he  hadn't  see  the  error  of 
his  ways  none,  and  that  if  I  wanted  consolation  I'd  have 
to  go  some'rs  where  they  didn't  keep  it  shet  in  quite  so 
close  as  they  did  at  Uncle  David's." 


Solomon  Cribber  did  not  add,  "  Hence  I  am  here,'' 
but  he  looked  around  him  at  'Kiar  Biff's  cozy  tavern, 
as  much  as  to  say  that  he  was  willing  to  regard  it  as 
the  place  he  \vas  looking  for  and  to  go  no  further.  If 
there  was  any  acknowledgment,  though,  on  the  part 
of  Landlord  Biff,  or  of  any  of  the  others  present,  that 
Mr.  Cribber  was  right  in  his  selection  of  the  spot,  it 
must  have  been  entirely  mental.  There  was  1x0  ap- 
pearance of  it  on  the  surface. 

"Yes,"  continued  I\Ir.  Cribber;  "  but  when  I  seen 
with  a  sorrowin'  heart  that  he  hadn't  see  the  error  of 
his  ways  and  repented,  I  didn't  let  my  disapp'intment 
blind  me  to  it  that  somethin'  uncommon  was  the  mat- 
ter with  Uncle  David,  and  I  sot  and  says  to  him, 

"  '  Uncle  David,'  I  says,  'somethin'  is  weightin'  of 
you  down. ' 

"  '  Like  a  ton  o'  lead  !'  sa3's  he. 

"  '  What  kin  it  be.?'  says  I. 

"'Absalom,'  says  he.  'Absalom  has  gone  and 
done  it  at  last  !'  says  he. 

"  '  Done  it  !'  says  I.      •  Not  died  ?' 

"  'Died.?'  says  he.  'No.  Nothin'  as  good  as 
that,'  says  he. 

"  'You  don't  mean  to  tell  me.  Uncle  David,'  I  says. 


"  'ABSALOM   WAS   THERE   AND  TOOK   CHARGE   OF   THE   YOUNG    FEI.I.ER. 


<='<<^-^'- ^^::5^ 


THE  HEARTLESS  BUNCOING  OF  UNCLE  DAVID. 


'  that  he  has  run  away  with  Aunt  Sally  and  kicked  her  out 
c'  the  wagon  !'   I  says. 

"' No,' says  he.  •  Worse  than  that !  He  has  steered  us 
up  ag'in"  a  bunco  game  !  That's  what  he's  done,'  says 
Uncle  David. 

"  '  Not  Absalom  ?'  says  I. 

"  '  Absalom,'  says  he,  heavin'  a  sigh  and  reachin'  down  in 
his  tumbler  to  git  the  lump  o'  sugar  that  was  wet  yit  and 
smelt  o'  consolation.  '  Absalom,'  says  he,  after  he  had 
swallered  the  sugar  and  blinked  a  little.  '  Absalom.  And 
seems  to  me,  Solomon,  as  it"  it's  goin'  to  be  tarnation  hard 
fer  us  to  pin  our  confidence  on  to  him  after  this,'  says  he. 

"  'Kiar,  mebbe  I'd  better  tell  you  about  Absalom  first, 
and   then   you  kin  jedge  better   o'  the  heft  o'  what  was 


couldn't  do  no  business  with  the  Beckendarter  family, 
though  there  was  two  or  three  times  when  other 
folks  could  see  that  Absalom's  jedgment  was  somethin, 
tremendous  queer.  Fer  instance.  Take  the  feller  that 
drove  up  to  Uncle  David's  one  day,  time  the  railroad  was 
buildin". 

"  He  drove  up,  lit  out  of  his  wagon,  and  was  walkin*  to 
the  house,  when  Absalom  come  and  shet  him  off.  Absa- 
lom didn't  only  lay  back  his  ears  and  show  the  feller  an 
uncompromisin'  front,  but  he  shifted  tail,  too,  and  let  his 
heels  fly  out  so  positive  in  the  direction  of  the  visitor  that 
the  visitor  got  back  into  his  wagon  a  good  deal  quicker 
than  he  had  got  out  of  it,  and  he  hollered  to  Uncle  David 
to  call  off"  his  mule. 


'.:>^y5^.  ^^^^jy 


"WHEN   HE   WENT   TO   MAKE    HIS    FIRST   C.\U.   ON    AUNT   SALLY." 


weightin  Uncle  David  down.  Absalom  is  a  mule — a  little 
buckskin-colored  mule — and  he's  been  runnin'  things  on 
Uncle  David's  place  so  long  that  they  've  fergot  how  old  he 
is.  And  he's  been  the  boss  over  there,  too.  Things  had 
to  be  done  jest  accordin'  to  the  way  Absalom  jedged  about 
'em,  and  Uncle  David  and  Aunt  Sally  wouldn't  no  more 
think  o'  doin'  the  contrary  than  they'd  think  o'  killin'  pigs 
when  the  moon  wasn't  right — that  is,  they  vifouldn't  not 
till  he  run  'em  into  this  bunco  game.  Whether  they're 
goin"  to  do  any  different  now  I  hain't  here  to  say. 

"  Why,  there  couldn't  nobody  on  top  o'  earth  do  busi- 
ness with  Uncle  David  or  Aunt  Sally  Beckendarter  unless 
he  got  a  recommend  from  Absalom.  When  Absalom 
folded  them  two-foot  ears  o'  his'n  back  onto  his  neck  and 
made  as  if  he'd  run   a   feller  off  o  that  place,  that  feller 


"  '  I've  got  some  ding  important  business  with  you  T 
he  hollers  to  Uncle  David,  who  was  standin'  on  the  stoop 
lookin'  the  field  over. 

"  '  No  you  hain't,"  Uncle  David  hollers  back.  '  You 
hain't  got  no  sort  o'  business  with  me  at  all,'  he  hollers, 
'  'cause  Absalom  's  ag'in'  you,  and  Absalom  knows  !' 

"The  feller  went  away  in  a  huff;  and  come  to  find  out, 
he  was  the  agent  of  the  railroad,  and  he  had  come  over  to 
make  a  contract  with  Uncle  David  to  buy  a  big  lot  o'  rail- 
road ties,  and  Uncle  David  had  been  layin'  back  fer  the 
chance  to  sell  'em.  The  railroad  give  the  job  to  a  neigh- 
bor o'  Uncle  David's,  and  he  cleaned  up  more  'n  a  thousand 
dollars  on  it.     But  uncle  David  stuck  by  Absalom. 

"  ■  The  chances  is,'  says  he,  •  that  if  I  'd  'a'  took  that 
contract   I  'd   'a'   gone  and  put  all  the  money  in  the  bank, 


17 


THE  HEARTLESS  BUNCOING  OF  UNCLE  DAVID. 


and    the   bank   would    'a'   busted.     I    tell   you,    Absalom 
knows,'  says  he. 

"  Then  see  the  case  o'  the  new  preacher  that  come  to 
the  Pochuck  circuit.  There  wasn't  never  a  meeker,  milder, 
innocenter  mortal  ever  eat  yaller-leg  chickens  than  that 
preacher  was.  When  he  went  to  make  his  first  call  on 
to  Aunt  Sally  he  was  bounced  off  o'  them  premises  so  quick 
by  Absalom  that  he  actu'ly  never  knowed  how  he  got  out 
into  the  road.  It  saddened  the  hearts  ot  Uncle  David  and 
Aunt  Sally  beyend  all  calcalation  to  know  that  the  new 
preacher  had  been  weighed  in  the  balance  by  Absalom 
and  found  wantin",  but  there  was  no  gittin'  'round  it.  They 
suspicioned  that  poor  dominie  from  then  on,  and  never 
went  to  meetin'  once  durin'  the  hull  time  he  was  on  the 
circuit.  And  it  didn't  shake  their  faith  in  Absalom  as 
much  as  the  tiniest  quaver  that  when  the  preacher  left  the 


my  confidence  in  him  tremendous,'  says  he.  '  Seems  as  if 
I  couldn't  never  put  no  dependence  onto  him  ag'in.  Say, 
Solomon,'  says  he,  '  you  know  whai  store  me  and  your  aunt 
Sally  sot  by  that  knowin'  little  varmint  ?' 

"  '  Consider'ble,'  says  I. 

"  '  Vou  remember  how  his  idees  o'  things  worked  in 
that  railroad-tie  deal  ?'  -says  Uncle  David. 

"  '  Somewhat,'  I  says. 

" '  And  you  remember  how  me  and  your  aunt  Saily 
humped  along  fer  a  year  and  better  without  no  spiritual 
consolation,  owin'  to  Absalom's  idee  as  to  the  standin'  o' 
that  new  preacher  ?"  says  he. 

"  '  A  trifle,'  says  I. 

"  '  Yes,  yes,'  says  Uncle  David.  '  And  w-e  jest  sot  by 
and  let  things  jog,  setch  was  our  confidence  in  that  mule,' 
says  he.     '  Well,  one  day  somethin"  like  three  months  ago," 


JEALOUSY. 
Sallie  Stork—"  Well,  I  don't  see  what  you  men  admire  about  her  figure." 


district   he   had   a   record  as  spotless  as   the  first   trackin' 
snow.     Not  a  quaver  ! 

"  '  The  w-orld  hain't  come  to  an  end  yit,'  says  Uncle 
David  and  Aunt  Sally.  '  Preachers  is  doin'  some  terrible 
queer  things  these  days,  when  you're  least  expectin"  it," 
they  says,  '  and  that  un  is  a  young  feller  yit,  and  has  got 
plenty  o"  time.     Absalom  knows,'  they  says. 

"  So  you  kin  see,  'Kiar,  how  shook  up  I  must  'a'  been 
when,  knowin"  all  about  the  standin'  of  Absalom  on  the 
Beckendarte.  place,  I  see  Uncle  David  all  weighted  down 
over  this  r'.iatterin'  of  the  family  idol. 

'•'S'eered  you  ag'in'  a  bunco  game,'  I  says.  'Not 
Absa'jm  ?' 

•  'Absalom  !'  says  Uncle  David,  moanin'  some,  but  with 
a  longin'  peek  behind  the  door.     •  He  has  gone  and  shook 


says  he,  '  the  nicest  young  chap  you  ever  sot  eyes  onto 
stopped  here,  jumped  out  of  his  wagon,  and  started  for  the 
door.  Absalom  was  there,  and  he  took  charge  o'  the 
young  feller.  Seemed  as  if  he  was  just  about  tickled  to 
death  to  see  him.  He  shoved  his  nose  ag'irt'  his  sleeve 
the  welcomest  kind,  and  actu'ly  walked  him  right  up  to  the 
door,  and  even  wanted  to  foUer  him  into  the  house,  he  had 
took  setch  a  fancy  to  him. 

"  '  Well,  we  didn't  know  what  the  young  feller's  busi- 
ness was  jest  then,'  says  Uncle  David,  '  but  Absalom's  was 
all  the  recommendation  me  and  your  aunt  Sally  wanted 
fer  him,  and  he  didn't  dilly-dally  a  minute,  but  got  right 
down  to  the  doin'  of  what  be  had  come  to  see  us  about. 
He  got  down  to  it  so  snug  that  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes 
he  had  my  signatoor  to  a  contract  to  be  the  agent   fer  the 


THE  HEARTLESS  BUNCOING  OF  UNCLE  DAVE). 


most  amazin'  stump-puller  and  root-grubbin'  machine  that 
ever  pulled  or  rooted.  Then  the  nice  young  feller  went 
away,  with  Absalom  showing  him  back  to  his  wagon  and 
hee-hawin"  him  good-bye. 

"  '  "  Sally,"  says  I,  as  he  drove  off,  "  I  '11  bet  my  boots 
on  that  feller,"  says  I. 

"  '  Well,"  says  Uncle  David,  '  t'  other  day  the  contract 
to  be  the  agent  fer  that  amazin'  stump-puller  and  root- 
grubber  turned  up  in  the  shape  o'  the  slickest  cut-throat 
jedgment  note  fer  one  hundred  and  sixty-three  dollars 
and  thirty-nine  cents  that  ever  took  the  shirt  off  o'  a  mis- 
guided mortal's  back.  And  with  it  come  a  notice  from  a 
lawyer  at  the  county  seat  that  I  was  e.xpected  to  drop  in  on 
him  and  settle  that  note  without  delay.  I  sent  back  word 
that  I  'd  be  dinged  if  I  would,  and  so  they  come  over  yister- 
day  and  levied  on  this,  that,  and  t'  other  o'  my  movable 
belongin's,  includin'  Absalom  ! 

"  '  'Tain't  that  I  mind  so  much,  Solomon,'  says  Uncle 
David,  sad  as  the  sad  sea  waves,  and  takin'  another  peek 
behind  the  door,  seemin'ly  most  inclined  to  git  holt  o'  the 
jug  and  drag  it  out,  but  changin'  his  mind.     '  'Tain't  that 


I  mind  so  much,  Solomon,' says  he,  '  but  to  think  that  after 
we've  left  Absalom  have  the  run  o'  the  place  fer  all  these 
years,  he'd  turn  to  and  run  us  up  ag'in'  a  bunco  game  is 
what  is  breakin'  me  all  up,'  says  he.  *  Seems  to  me,'  says 
he,  '  as  if  it  'II  be  sort  o'  hard  fer  us  to  pin  our  confidence 
on  to  him  ag'in,'  he  says. 

"  Seein"  that  Uncle  David  was  all  weighted  down  so, 
and  perceivin'  with  a  sorrowin'  heart  that  he  hadn't  been 
to  meetin'  and  see  the  error  of  his  ways,  I  didn't  hardly 
have  the  spirit  to  say  what  I  thunk,  and  I  got  up  and  come 
out.  But  as  1  heerd  the  corncob  stopper  squeakin'  before 
I  got  the  door  shet  yit,  I  had  an  idee  that  Uncle  David  was 
gittin'  consolation  enough  to  bear  him  up  under  his 
weigjitin'  down,  and  that  if  I  wanted  any  myself  I'd  have 
to  go  some'rs  where  they  didn't  keep  it  shet  in  quite  so 
close  as  they  did  at  Uncle  David's." 

The  Pochuck  chronicler  paused,  cracked  a  finger  or 
two,  looked  about  him  a  moment,  rose,  and  said, 

"  But  I  see  I  hain't  got  there  yit." 

Then,  putting  on  his  ear-muffs  and  his  gum  shoes,  he 
went  out,  presumably  to  renew  his  quest. 


?ll?5{??ll??*;?li?5J??li;?ll??*? 


An  Allegory. 

IrSlOW,  upon  a  time 
1^1  there  were  two 
swains,  and  each 
loved  the  same  fair  lady. 
Upon  a  day  they  came 
un*o  the  damsel,  and  the 
first  made  speech  unto 
her,  saying, 

"  Behold  !  I  am  con- 
sumed with  the  fires  of 
devotion  for  you.  I  would 
go  to  the  ends  of  the 
world  for  you." 

Whereat  she  respond- 
ed, "  Go  !"  And  he  went 
out  in  great  happiness, 
believing  that  when  he 
had  sought  the  end  of  the 
world  he  should  have 
her  hand. 

Then  came  to  her  side 
the  second  swain,  much 
cast  down  in  spirit  and 
exceeding  heavy  of 
heart. 

"  Oh,  fair  one  !"  he 
sighed,  "  I  would  not  go 
to  the  end  of  the  world 
for  you,  but  I  would  go 
to  the  end  of  the  world 
with  you." 

"  Come,"  she  said. 

This  teaches  us  that 
the  way  to  make  'em 
happy  is  to  make  'em 
happy  with  us. 


THE  IRREPRESSIBLE  AGENT. 
"  I'll  write  you  out  a  policy." 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  said  Hutch. 
"  Of  course  not,"  said  the  agent  bland  ; 

"  But  on  your  own — how  much  ?" 


Easy  Lesson  for  the 
Little  Ones. 

[^g|]EE  the  man. 
1^^       Is  the  man  look- 
ing into   the    can- 
non ? 

Yes,  the  man  is  look- 
ing into  the  cannon. 

Why  does  he  gaze  so 
intently  into  the  muzzle  ? 

He  wishes  to  see  why 
it  does  not  go  off. 

Oh,  goodness !  the  can- 
non has  been  discharged. 

Look,  look  !  The  man 
is  unhurt. 

But  ditl  not  the  dis- 
charge of  the  cannon 
blow  out  his  brains  ? 

No,  indeed,  child.  If 
the  man  had  had  any 
brains  he  would  not 
have  rubbered  down  the 
mouth  of  the  gun. 

Thus  we  learn  that 
Nature  is  a  wise  guy. 

Bark  ley  —  "  Poynter's 
greyhound  was  awarded 
a  prize  of  ten  dollars  for 
perfect  form  at  the  dog- 
show." 

Barker —  "  Yes  ;  and 
then  the  ladies'  humane 
society  had  Poynter  ar- 
rested, and  he  was  fined 
twenty  dollars  for  shap- 
ing his  dog  with  corsets." 


THE  REAL  THING. 
Poet — "Here  is  a  spring  poem,  sir." 
Editor — "  I  can  see  that     I  can  detect  the  microbes  ol 
and  brain-fag  in  every  line." 

Unqualified. 

First  South  American — "  Faugh  !  Think  of  that  man 
pretending  to  be  a  statesman  !  Why  he  ^knows  absolutely 
nothing  of  political  economy." 

Second  South  American — "  I  should  say  he  didn't. 
Why,  he  couldn't  tell  a  revolution  from  a  North-American 
college-yell." 


Miss  Avoirdupois. 

SHE'S  keeping  Lett     To 
wash  away 
Her  sins  ?     It  is  not  that 
She  finds  this  &sting  day 
by  day 
A  splendid  anti-£at 

Better  than  Hay. 

« UE    SAYS    that    he 
always  makes  hay 
while  the  sun  shines." 

"  Yes  ;  h  e  i  s  now 
making  love  to  a  rich 
grass-widow." 


His  Sad  End. 

**  W'OT'S    become    uv 
dat     red-headed 
bell-hopper  w'ot  always 
said  he  could  guess  w'ot 
people  wanted  by  de  way 
de  bell  rung  ?"  asked  the 
hotel-porter  of  the  head 
bell-boy. 
"  He  hopped  a  call  from  four-eighty-six  yestiddy  morn- 
in',"  explained  the  head  bell-boy.     "  He  topk  up  a  pitcher 
uv  ice-water,  because  he  said  the  bell   rung  like  it  was 
a  thirsty  call." 
"  Well  ?" 

"  Well,  dere  was  a  guy  from  Kentucky  in  dat  roon., 
dat's  all." 


malaria,  rheumatism,  influenza. 


.y''^'::.  ..0&:'- 


Scene  in  Germany  as  Johnny  imagines  it  to  be  after  seeing  a  dachshund. 


0 

c 

H 

J 

■c 

;i, 

? 

ti 

C-. 

u 

M 

■^ 

D 

>^ 

O 

O 

->i 

O 

■^  M 

z 

=  ^ 

5     M 


.     Y. 

<  < 


His  Babes  AND 

His  BARNS: 


I 


IlXUSTKAIKD     BT    AXBKirr    L.EVEBIXG. 


M  OVER  here,  but  it's  painful  unneighborly 
in  me  !  I  don't  know  what  Si  Ramsey'll 
think  o'  me — him  in  that  state  o  mind,  and 
me  over  here,  thoughtless  and  unneigh- 
borly, and  jest  as  like  as  not  goin'  to  say, 
'  Yes,'  if  anybody  asks  me,  and  maybe  take 
as  much  as  three  fingers,  not  countin' 
the  chaser,  instead  o'  bein'  over  home 
holdin'  buckets  o'  water  ready  to  douse 
'em,  and  kind  o'  ease  that  state  o'  mind  o' 
Si's  a  little.      I  guess  I'll  go  back." 

But  Sol  Cribber,  the  willing  disseminator 
of  news  from  the  Pochuck  district,  made 
no  move  to  rise  and  go  back 
although    no    one    then 

present  a*.  'Kiar  Biff's  tavern  at 

the  Corners  showed  any   dis- 
position to   put  to  him  the 

query    he    had    intimated 

that  he  might  feel  inclined 

to  answer  in  the  affirm- 
ative. 

"  I  wouldn't    be   in 

the   state  o'    mind    my 

friend  Si  Ramsey  is  in, 

not  for  Si's  whole  farm," 

he    resumed    after    a 

while.       "Not    for   his 

whole  farm — and  that's 

sa)'in'  a  good  deal,  for 

Si's    farm    jines    mine, 

and  there  ain't   nothin' 

I'd  rather  have  than  that 

farm.       But     bad    as    I 

want    it,     if   Si    should 

come    to    me  and  say. 


'I'd   have   to   say   to   him,     "excuse   me,    SILAS."' 


'  Solomon,  I'll  giA^e  you  that  farm  o'  mine,  free,  gratis, 
for  nothin',  but  you'll  have  to  take  my  siate  o'  mind 
along  with  it,'  I'd  have  to  say  to  him,  '  Silas,  you're 
no  friend  o' mine  !  Excuse  me,  Silas,'  I'd  say,  'but 
that's  right  !'  Now,  what  do  you  folks  over  here  think 
of  a  chap  that  wouldn't  take  the  best  farm  in  the  Po- 
chuck country  as  a  gift  if  he  had  to  take  the  owner's 
state  o'  mind  with  it?     What  do  you  think  of  him?" 

"Is  the  state  o'  mind  somethin'  awful?''    Lsked 
'Kiar  Biff. 

"Awful  ?  Why,  it  would  throw  some  folks  into  fits 
every  three  minutes  !"  replied  the  Pochuck  citizen. 

"  I  want  to  know  I"  said  'Kiar.      "  Do  you  think 
it  mowt  be  liable  to  turn  a  feller  to  stealin 
his  neighbor's  sheep?'' 

' '  Now,  'Kiar,  I  wouldn't  won- 
der a  bit  but  what  it  mowt  1" 
was  Mr.  Cribber's  response. 
"  Humph  1"  responded 
the    landlord.    "And   i> 
mowt  kill  a  feller,   too, 
mowtn't  it  ?  " 

"  Kiar,  if  you  had 
that  state  o'  mind  I 
don't  believe  you'd  live 
two  days  I"  asserted  the 
citizen  from  the  Po- 
chuck district. 

' '  Is  the  farm  a  real, 

genuine  Pochuck  farm, 

Solomon  ?"  asked  'Kiar. 

"That's  what  it  is," 

said  Solomon. 

"Then,"  remarked 
the  landlord,  emphasiz- 
ing   the    remark    by    a 


=  HIS    BABES     AND     HIS     BARNS= 


'  WHY,    IT   WOULD   THROW   SOME    FOLKS   EVERY   THREE   MINUTES. 


sounding  whack  on  the  table  with  his  fist,  "  if  a  feller 
in  such  a  terrible  wearin'  state  o'  mind  as  that  should 
offer  me  that  farm  providin'  I'd  take  the  state  o'  mind 
along  with  it,  I'd  say,  '  I  don't  mind  takin'  your  state 
o'  mind,  neighbor,  but  you  kin  keep  your  farm!'  " 

Those  citizens  of  the  Corners  who  were  waiting  the 
main  chance  at  the  tavern  allowed  that  'Kiar  was 
about  right,  but  Mr.  Cribber  simply  cracked  two  fin- 
gers on  his  right  hand  and  the  thumb  on  his  left,  and 
looked  pleasant. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  he.  "It's  painful  unneigh- 
borly  in  me  to  be  here,  for  I  ought  to  be  over  to  Si's 
this  minute  with  a  bucket  o'  water  in  each  hand, 
waitin'  for  the  worst,  but  I  feel  that  I  won't  be  doin' 
exactly  right  by  myself  or  by  you  folks  here  at  the 
Corners  if  I  go  without  tellin'  about  that  state  o'  mind 
o'  Si's.  Seems  to  me  as  if  you  ought  to  know  it.  I 
think  it  was  seven  years  ago  that  Si  got  married,  and 
bought  the  farm  I'm  tellin'  you  about,  ne.Kt  neighbor 
to  me.  Two  days  after  his  first  baby  was  born  Si's 
barn  burnt  down,  with  everything  in  it.  Nobody 
could  find  out  how  it  happened  to  ketch  fire,  but  Si 
soon  had  a  nice  new  barn,  and  a  bigger  one,  in  its 
place. 

"  '  New  baby,  new  barn,'  says  Si.  '  That  seems  to 
be  all  right,'  he  says. 

"Two  years  after  that.  Si's  second  baby  come 
along,  and   as  it  was  a  boy,  Si  felt  more  than  a  foot 


taller.  That  same  week  Si  was  away  fightin'  brush 
fire,  and  his  big  barn  ketched  fire  and  there  wa'n't 
nothin'  but  cinders  left  of  it  when  Si  got  home. 

"  'Another  new  baby,  another  new  barn,  too,"  says 
Si.      'That  seems  no  more  than  square,'  says  he. 

"  Si  put  up  another  new  barn,  and  had  it  insured 
same  as  t'other  two  barns  had  been.  About  two  years 
later,  I  think  it  was — anyhow,  I  know  it  was  the  third 
o'  July — Mrs.  Si  added  baby  No.  3  to  the  family,  and 
ne.xt  day  bein'  the  glorious  Fourth,  Si  made  up  his 
mind  to  celebrate  both  occasions  by  shootin'  off  some 
mild  fireworks  durin'  the  evenin'.  The  Roman  can- 
dles that  Si  sent  a-sissin'  and  a-poppin"  up  and  down 
and  criss-cross  jest  tickled  the  neighbors  all  but  to 
pieces,  and  everything  was  goin'  off  in  a  way  that  the 
spirit  o'  '76  couldn't  have  asked  to  had  any  better, 
when  the  hired  man  come  runnin'  from  back  o"  the 
house,  yellin', 

"'Them  roamin'  candles  o*  yourn,  Silas,'  he 
yelled,  '  has  roamed  too  ding  fur  !  They've  roamed, 
some  of  'em,  over  on  to  the  barn,  and  she's  jest  a- 
hummin' !' 

"Sure  enough,  the  barn  was  on  fire,  and  all  that 
we  could  do  wouldn't  save  it.  It  went  up  in  a  bon- 
fire to  help  celebrate  the  bran'  new  baby  and  the 
fourth  o'  July. 

"  'Well,  see  here,'  says  Si,  'babies  is  all  right,  but 
if  I've  got  to  burn  a  barn  down  every  time  one  come? 


=HIS    BABES    AND     HIS     BARNS= 


1 


"  '  SURE   ENOUGH.    THE   BARN    WAS   ON    FIRE.' 


along,  there's  liable  to  be  more  bright  spots  in  me  and 
'Lizy  Jane's  future  than  it's  cheerin'  to  look  forward  to. 
This  is  gittin"  monotonous  !'  says  Si. 

"  But  he  had  to  have  a  new  barn,  and  he  built  him 
a  new  one  to  remind  him  o'  the  third  baby.  When  he 
went  to  have  it  insured,  though,  the  insurance  man 
told  him  that  this  here  hand-runnin'  markin'  of  an 
increase  in  his  family  by  his  barn  burnin'  down  had 
sot  the  insurance  company  to  thinkin"  and  figgerin', 
and  they  had  come  to  look  at  future  transactions  with 
Si  with  an  anxious  eye. 


"'They've  classed  you  as  extra  hazardous,  Si,' 
says  the  insurance  man.  '  I'll  have  to  raise  the  rate 
on  you  toler'ble  high  if  I  take  a  risk  on  your  new 
barn,'  he  says: 

"But  Si  had  to  have  insurance,  and  he  paid  the 
extra  rate  on  the  new  bam.  Last  year  Si's  hay  crop 
was  so  tremendous  big  that  to  store  it  he  had  to  build 
another  barn  in  a  meadow  not  fur  from  the  house. 
He  insured  it,  and  paid  the  extra  rate.  Two  or  three 
weeks  ago  the  insurance  man  was  passin'  that  way,  and 
he  stopped  and  had  dinner  with  Si  and  'Lizy  Jane.    The 


'  NOT   FER   SI  S   WHOLE   FARM. 


=HIS     BABES    AND     HIS     BARNS- 


next  day  Si  was  all  knocked  out  bj*  gittin'  a  letter  from  the 
insurance  man  cancellin'  the  policies  on  them  two  barns. 
Si  was  madder  than  a  wet  hen,  but  he  was  too  busy  to  go 
see  about  it  jest  then. 

"  '  But  I'll  give  'em  fits  when  I  do  see  'em  !'  he  says. 

"  Well,  day  before  yisterday  what  does  'Lizy  Jane  do 
but  go  and  present  Si  with  twins.  When  Si  heerd  it  he 
stood  dumb  for  a  minute.     Then  he  broke  out, 

"'That's  right!'  he  says.  ■  It's  jest  the  way  it  ought 
to  be  !  I've  got  two  barns  now  !'  he  says.  '  Twins  is 
right  !     A  barn  to  burn  for  each  twin  !'  he  says. 

"  And  now  see  the  state  o'  mind  Si  is  in  !  Of  course, 
soon  as  the  news  got  around,  the  neighbors  rushed  to  Si's 


from  all  directions,  and  they've  been  standin'  around  the 
barns  with  buckets  o'  water  ever  sence,  ready  to  douse 
'em  on  as  soon  as  the  tire  breaks  out.  They  may  save  ihe 
barns,  but  Si  don't  have  much  hope.  And  the  trouble  is, 
everybody's  work  is  rushin' jest  now,  and  neighbors  cnn't 
be  e.xpected  to  wait  much  longer  at  Si's,  waitin'  fer  the 
barns  to  ketch  fire.  So  you  see  what  a  state  o'  mind  Si  is 
in,  and  no  insurance  to  sort  o'  ease  it  a  little.  Take  his 
farm  and  that  state  o"  mind  ?     Me  ?     Not  for  worlds  !" 

And  with  the  remark  that  it  was  most  amazing  how- 
far-seeing  insurance  men  were,  and  that  he  must  hurry 
home  and  help  surround  Si's  barns  with  buckets  of  water, 
the  chronicler  of  Pochuck  happenings  went  away  smiling. 


WHEN     CIDER    TASTES    THE     BEST. 


VilHElN  autumn  paints  her  ruddy  glow  across  each  hill  and  dale, 
^      And  Jack   Frost  plays  at  liide-and-seek  through   urcliard, 

wood  and  vale, 
Then  comes  the  cider-making  time — the  old  horse  walking  round, 
The  apples  crunching  in  the  cogs,  a  mellow,  soothing  sound  ; 
The  press  with  rye-straw  mingled  with  the  pulp  of  red  and  gold, 
The  luscious  cheeses  dripping  with  a  cadence  yet  untold  ; 
And  then  the  foaming  tub  of  juice,  with  boys  and  bees  about, 
And,  too,  the  straw  with  which  we  draw  the  mellow  liquid  out. 

Oh,  that  is  when  it  tastes  the  best,  a  straw  poked  in  the  foam, 

And  we  upon  our  bended  knees  to  draw  the  cider  home  ! 

A  golden  goblet  if  you  will,  or  cut-glass  and  the  rest, 

But  when  we  draw  it  through  a  straw  is  when  it  tastes  the  best. 


Then,  later,  when  the  cogs  are  stilled  and  all  the  cider  s  made, 

With  twenty  barrels  in  a  row  behind  the  old  mill's  shade. 

With    twenty   bung-holes    waiting    there   to   make   a   youngster 

smile, 
I'd  give  a  heap  to  take  a  straw  and  linger  there  a  while. 
I'd  like  to  straddle  every  cask  and  sample  every  one. 
And  sozzle  in  that  apple-jufce  until  the  day  was  done  ; 
And  then  I'd  like  to  go  to  bed  and  dream  that  I  were  still 
A-straddle  of  a  cider-cask  down  under  Martin's  mill. 

For  that  is  when  it  tastes  the  best,  a  straw  poked  in  the  foam, 
Humped  over  on  a  cider-cask  to  draw  that  sweetness  home. 
A  golden  goblet  if  you  will,  or  cut-glass  and  the  rest, 
But  when  we  draw  it  through  a  straw  is  when  it  tastes  the  best. 


IN  OKLAHOMA. 
First  native — "Bill  Jenkins  and  his  wife  hev  separated." 
.Second  native— "  Divorce  ?" 
First  native — "Nope;   cyclone." 


Obed  Daw's  Theory. 

HERE  I  sit  upon  the  dock, 
Fishing  in  the  deep. 
And  against  the  spile  I  rock. 
Dreaming  and  asleep. 

This  is  just  the  way  to  fish 
That  I  like  the  best, 

For  my  angling  is  a  dish 

Of  sweet,  gilt-edged  rest. 

And  I  catch  them  left  and  right 
While  I  sleep  and  bake  ; 

For  whene'er  I  get  a  bite, 
Bang  !  and  I'm  awake. 


Eiii/A—"\\hat  do  the  Buddhists 
mean  by  '  Nirvana '  ?" 

Ethel — "One  of  these  patent 
medicines,  I  guess." 


Dark  Outlook. 

««li7ELL,"  said  the 
cheery  Iriend, 
"  what's  the  outlook  for 
business  ?" 

"  Miserable,  dishearten- 
ing !"  replied  the  manu- 
facturer of  food-stuffs. 

"  Bless  me  !  can  it  be  .' 
Why,  I  understood  that 
there  never  was  such  a 
plentiful  supply  of  raw  ma- 
terial, that  shipping  facili- 
ties are  now  at  their  most 
e.xcellent  stage,  that  the 
workmen  are  perfectly  sat- 
isfied with  wages  and  con- 
ditions, and  that  the  public 
is  demanding  more  and 
more  of  your  product." 

"Just  so.  There  isn't 
the  ghost  of  an  excuse  for 
raising  prices." 

Affluence. 

The  black  turkey — "And 
so  she  has  married  that 
rich  gobbler  ?  They  say 
his  nest  is  well  feathered." 

The  bronze  turkey — 
"Yes.  Now  I  suppose 
she'll  be  well  supplied  with 
pin-feathers." 


(a»M 


MURPHY'S   CONCERN. 
Murphy — ■'  Cassidy  will  give  me  th'  divil  av  Oi  busht 
this  hod  av  his.     Oh,  wurra,  wurra  !" 


DREADFUL ! 

RiCAKDO — "  Some  one  stole  the  star  ballet-girl's  wrist-bag,  and  it  caused  a  dreadful  commotion." 

Edowardo — "  How  so?" 

RiCARDO — "  Why,  it  contained  her  costiune !" 


Enough    To   Irritate  the 
Bird, 

nHE  impassioned  orator 
had  got  all  tangled  up 
in  his  flowing  speech. 
He  had  dragged  in  the  proud 
American  eagle  and  the  con- 
stitution of  the  United  States, 
and  some  ten  or  fifteen  of  the 
forefathers,  and  one  or  two 
undying  principles  of  liberty, 
and  several  miles  of  bulwarks 
of  the  nation,  and  had  jum- 
bled them  all  together,  and  it 
began  to  look  as  if  he  could 
not  get  his  shoulders  above 
the  wreck  of  his  own  elo- 
quence. Still  he  struggled 
bravely  on ,  while  the 
audience  sat  in  patient  sym- 
pathy. 

"  Yes,  friends  !"  he  shout- 
ed. "  We  will  take  the  proud 
bird  of  freedom  from  his  eyrie 
on  the  mountain  height,  and 
we  shall  make  him  soar — we 
shall  lead  him  acioss  the 
pages  of  our  lustrous  history, 
and  we  will  make  him  soar 
from  end  to  end — we  will  en- 
dow him  with  the  glorious 
deeds  of  our  forefathers,  and 


SARCASM. 
"  Every  one  tells  me  I  have  a  splendid  face  for  light 
comedy." 

••  How  could  you  help  it  with  that  lantern  j.iw?" 


make  him  soar — and  we — 
as  I  said  before,  fellow-citi- 
zens, we  will  make  the  eagle 

soar  " 

•'  I  should  say  we  would  !" 
interrups  one  listener,  who 
is  no  longer  able  to  restrain 
himself  "You've  pulled 
out  enough  of  his  tail-feathers 
to  make  him  sore  for  fifty 
years  !"' 

Had  Reached  the  Limit. 

Mickc\\ — "  Wot  made  yer 
quit  yer  job,  Jimmie  ?" 

Jimi.tie  —  "  "Cos  de  boss 
had  a  record  of  all  me  rela- 
tions wot  died  last  summer, 
an'  he  wouldn't  let  me  use 
none  of  'em  over  again.  If  1 
don't  git  a  new  job  I  can't 
see  no  ball-games." 

Oh,  Perish  the  Thought  f 

WITH     horseless    steeds     and 
wireless  wires 
We   prove   this    age   a  hum- 
mer ; 
But  terrible  'twould  be  to  have 
The    summer  -  girlless     sum. 
mer. 


■■^X\ 


VERY   SMALL. 

'  Oh.  George  !  I  've  left  my  bathing-suit  liehind." 
'  Aw,  don't  mind  a.  little  thing  like  tliat." 


(n 

Sn 

< 

c 

<n 

Z 

'«J 

■a* 

ki 

\A 

oy 

y, 

J3 

l-H 

tia 

Orpheus  Johnson. 

lifHEN  I's  pickin'  on  de  strings, 

An'  mail  hahd  day's  wuk  am  done. 
All  mah  sorrers  up  an'  wings, 
An'  I's  brimmin'  full  ob  fun. 

For  I  charms  de  pussy-cat, 

An'  de  brindled  hous&-da\vg,   too, 
An'  some  day  de  'possum  fat 

An'  de  cocka-doodle-doo 

I  will  charm,  an'  den  I'll  be 

Out  ob  wuk  an'  feelin'  fine 
As  de  blossom  Uowin'  fi-ee 

On  de  watahmillion  vine. 

Fo'  mah  banjo  '11  be  a  trap 

An'  a  gun  ter  beat  de  band, 

An'  I  '11  live,  while  I  flip-flap. 
On  de  fat  ob  all  de  land. 


Yes. 

fBBTjE  were  tracing  our  ances- 
l  i  I  try.  Filgerson  claimed 
that  his  people  came 
over  in  the  Mayflower.  Mur- 
phy recapitulated  a  long  line  of 
Irish  kings.  Pierson  said  he 
had  a  progenitor  in  the  cru- 
sades and  that  his  name  was 
formed  by  the  apt  twisting  of 
the  names  of  some  of  the  bat- 
tles in  which  the  forefather  had 
figured. 

"  But  1  beat  you  all,"  de- 
clared Smith. 

"  Oh,  there  always  have  been 
Smiths,"  we  laughed. 

"  Sure  !  My  family  history 
goes  clear  back  to  legendary 
days.  The  origin  of  my  family 
is  Smithical." 

"  Blithering." 

IWJO  dictionary  gives  this  word, 
'  •     AVhich  from  the  tongue  goes 

slithering 
When  one  by  deep  disgust  is  stirred 
And     must    call    some    one 

"blithering." 

What  does  it  mean  ?  It  has  a  sound 
Sarcastic,  sharp  and  withering. 

Has  no  word-doctor  ever  found 

Why     ' '  blithering  "     means 
blithering  ? 


THE   BRUTE. 

Dolly — "I  told  him  never  to  speak 
to  me  again." 

Daisy — "Did  he  deserve  such  treat- 
ment ?" 
,     Dolly— "Y-y -yes.  H-heh-hasn't!" 


GETTING   EVEN. 
First  sport — "About  how  much  do  you  usually  give  the  waiter?" 

Second  sport — "  Well,  if  he  serves  me  well  I  give  him  a  dollar,  and  if  he  serves  me  poorly  I 
give  him  a  tip  on  the  races." 


He — "  My  sweet  one, 
do  you  love  me  ?" 

She  —  "  Ah,  dearest, 
how  can  you  ask  that?" 

//^_"Why,  it's  a 
very  simple  physiological 
process.  The  impulse 
doubtless  originates  in 
the  cerebellum,  is  accel- 
erated in  the  cerebrum, 
and,  upon  beingtransmit- 
ted  by  the  proper  nerves, 
is  converted  by  the  vocal 
organs  into  the  words, 
'  Do  you  love  me  ?'  " 


m 


HOW   SHE  MANAGES   IT. 

'Jack  and  I  are  going  to  Hot  Springs." 

'  How  do  you  manage  it?     I  cannot  get  Tom  to  go  anywhere." 

'  Very  simple.     I  just  say  mother  's  coming,  and  he  '11  travel  any  distance." 


No  Room  for  Him. 

ilHE  reckless  auto- 
mobilist  pulls  up 
at  the  foot  of  the 
cinder-oath  and  toots 
two  or  three  times,  un- 
til the  iron  gate  of  the 
warm  regions  opens 
cautiously. 

"  What  do  you  want, 
sir  ?"  asks  Mephistoph- 
eles. 

"  Want  to  come  in," 
says  the  automobilist. 

"  I  guess  not  !"  cries 
Meph.  as  the  d  o  c  r  _ 
clangs  shut.  "  There's 
trouble  enough  in  here 
since  I  admitted  a 
bunch  of  golf-players. 
They've  got  all  my  imps 
caddying  for  them.  If 
I  let  you  come  in  you'll 
make  this  place  too  hot 
to  hold  me." 


D' 


A  Veterinary  Surgeon  Needed. 

j|HE  amateur  automobilist  tries  to  go  through  a  ten- 
mile  ordinance  town   at  the  rate   of  forty  miles  an 
hour.     At   the   intersection   of  the  main  streets  he 
whirls  into  a  collection 
of  cables,  chains,  fence- 
posts,    and    other   bar- 
riers.    He   is    dug  out 
of  the  wreck  and   car- 
ried into   the   first  doc- 
tor's office  his  rescuers 
see. 

"  I  can't  do  anything 
for  this  man,"  says  the 
doctor.  "  I  am  a  vet- 
erinary surgeon." 

"  You're  the  right 
man,  doc,"  moans  the 
amateur  automobilist. 
"  I  was  a  jackass  to 
think  I  could  run  that 
machine." 


Appropriately  Gowned. 

Marie — "  How  are  you   going  to  dress   for^the   ping- 
pong  party  ?" 

Gladys — "  I  think   I'll  wear  my  pink-pongee." 


"I 


SUPPOSE,  dear,' 
said  Mrs.  Greene 
to  her  husband,  "  if 
these  saloon-keepers 
raise  prices  on  account 
of  the  increased  liquor 
tax  you  men  will  get 
even  by  taking  smaller 
drinks  ?" 

Mr.  Greene  looked  at 
her  suspiciously,  but 
made  no  immediate  re- 
ply. 


^.^.^y^^/' 


THINGS   TO   BE   PROUD   OF. 
The  DRiMMER— "  You  folks  seem  to  be  very  proud  of  your  little  village." 
The  postm.'^ster — "  Wa-al,  jest  a  leetle.     Eddie  Galootze,  thet  played  'short'  with  our  ball-nme 

in  'ninety-seven,  is  now  engaged  fer  th'   national  league,   an'  Steve  McClusky,  thet  played  with  th^ 

national  league  in  'ninety-seven,  is  now  captain  of  our  ball-nine." 


He  had  no  pull ; 

He  was  too  full, 
And  think  it  was  quite  right 

The  law,  of  course. 

One  must  enforce — 
Arrest  a  shoe  that's  tight. 


Another  Case  of  Mahomet's  Mountain. 

Jim — "  Did  the  Uptowns  succeed  in  get- 
ting a  new  piano  for  their  flat  ?" 

Jack — "  No.  They  had  to  get  a  new  flat 
to  fit  the  piano." 


The  Casus  BeUi. 

((  AND  what,"  in- 
quired     the 

school-teacher, "  was^ 

the  occasion   of  the 

disgraceful  brawl  in 

McGinniss's    saloon 

last  night  ?     I  have 

been    able   to  glean 

butagarbled  account 

of  it  from  the  others 

who  were  present." 
"Well,"  explained 

Mr.  O'Tunder,  "they 

was     th'     two     O'- 

Rourkes,  an'   Moike 

Clancy,     an'    Terry 

Murphy,    an'    Pat 

Casey,    an'   wan    or 

two    others    in     th' 

place,    drinkin'   this 

an'  thot,   an'   sayin' 

this  an'  thot,  an'  doin'  this  an'  thot,  an'  finally  they  got  t"  divilin*  wan 

another,  an'  some  wan  hit  wan  av  thim  in  th'  shtoomach,  an'  from  thin 

on  'twas  a  foine  foight  fer  shure." 

"Ah !"  commented  the  teacher.  "  Then  the  blow  was  the  casus  belli  ?" 
"  Ye  may  be   roight,"  said  Mr.  O'Tunder,   scratching  his  head  in 

perplexity  ;    "  but  'twas  my  undershtandin'  'twas  Murphy's  thot  got 

th'  lick." 


i 


ILLUSTRATED  SLANG. 
"Doing  a  stunt." 


THE  MENDICANT  CLASS. 
Tourist — "  Is  there  much  poverty  in  this  village  at  the  present  time?'' 
Nati\e — "  Loads  of  it.     Why,  thar's  forty-seven  summer  boarders  between  here  an'  Hog's  Neck  alone." 


He  Knew. 

« THERE  is  a  good 
deal  of  illiteracy 
around  here,  isn't 
there  ?"  asked  the 
man  from  the  north, 
who  was  journeying 
through  the  wilds  of 
Arkansas. 

•'  Thar  used  to  be, 
stranger,"  replied  the 
native  to  whom  the 
inquiry  wasaddressed, 
"  but  them  confound- 
ed revenue  officers 
have  done  busted  the 
business  plumb  up." 

His  Role. 
«|  SEE  that  deRan- 

tem  is  going  to 
be  a  star  next  season," 
observed  Brutus  Fut- 
lites  to  Beatrice  Lite- 
futes. 

"A  shooting -star, 
no  doubt,"  comment- 
ed Beatrice  with  that 
spontaneous  wit  which 
has  made  her  press- 
agent  famous  ;  "  for  I 
understand  he  is  to 
have  the  leading  r6le 
in  a  wrild-west  drama. " 


The   Merry   Mag- 
nates. 

«UA,  HA!"  laughed 
the  first  street- 
railway  magnate, 
who  was  going 
through  his  mail. 
"  Here's  a  Tunny  let- 
ter." 

"What  is  it.'" 
asked  the  second 
street  -  railway  mag- 
nate. 

"  Oh,  tlie  usual 
bunch  of  complaints 
about  the  service," 
explained  the  first 
speaker;  "but  it  is 
signed  •  A  patron  of 
twenty  years'  stand- 
ing.'" 


HIS  DEFINITION. 


Mcjigger—"  I  saw 
Markley  blowing  off 
that  theatiical  man- 
ager to  a  ten-dollar 
dinner  yesterday." 

Th  i n gumbo b  — 
"Yes;  a  scheme  of 
his,  and  it  worked 
beautifully.  He  was 
working  him  for  a 
couple  of  passes." 


18 


HOW  THE  UP-TO-DATE  PROPRIETOR   OF  MANLESS  BEACH 


UTILIZED  THE  SEA-SERPENi'. 


The  Angora  Goat. 


THE    United    States    department    of    agriculture    has 
kindly  sent  us  a  scholarly  and   exhaustive  treatise 
on  the  Angora  goat.     Th«  author  of  this  pleasant 
excursion   into  a  field  that  is   comparatively  unex- 
plored has   not  only   covered   himself  with  glory,  but  has 
brought  to  the  public  eye 
an    animal    that    is    all 
overcoat.  His  wool  hangs 
down  in  hea\7  draperies 
that  make  him  look  like 
a   mop   in    repose.      He 
parts    his    wool    in    the 
middle,  along  the  spine, 
and  lets  it  hang  over  on 
each   side    like    football 
hair.     Like    his    Harlem 
brother,  he  is  very  fond  of 
scrap-iron,    which    deli- 
cacy is  fed  to  him  in  cap- 
tivity that  he   may  yield 
mineral  wool.      He  also 
yields   mohair,   which   is 
noted  for  its  specific  grav- 
ity, though  not  so  much 
as  the  Angora  goat  is  him- 
self noted    for   his    skill, 
in    which    sphere    he   is 
said   to   be    superior   to 
the  Chinaman,  in   clear- 
ing   land.       He     makes 
the   brushwood    fly   like 
oysters  at  a  church  fair, 
eats  chestnut-burrs  with 
the  same  delight  that  a 
Scotch     golfer     devours 
thistles  while  helping  the 
caddy   find    a   lost    ball. 
When  he  begins  to  clear 
off  the  bosom  of  the  land- 
scape he  eats   cans,  bot- 
tles   and     other     things 
with  such  gusto  that  the 
owner   of    the    place    is 
harrowed     by    the    sus- 
picion that   the  omnivo- 
rous Angora  may  devour 
the  title  and  both  mort- 
gages    that    hold    the 
pumpkins    down    as    if 
fastened     with    spikes. 
He   has  been  known  to 
eat     cord-wood,     and 
sometimes   he   has    been 
given   slivers    of    cedar, 
which     have     the    same 
effect  on  him  that  a  chest 
of  that  wood    has  on  a 
sealskin     sacque  —  inas- 


much as  the  moths  fly  to  him  as  if  he  were  a  lamp.      His  -11 
pelt  makes   fine   rugs,  college  diplomas   and  shoes,  while 
Angora  milk  is  much  richer  than  that  of  the  cow,  and,  in 
addition,    is    absolutely   water-proof.      It    is    furthermore 
translatable   into   a   cheese   beside  which  limburger  is  as 

the  dainty  scent  of  the 
wild-flower.  He  wears 
brick-a-brac  horns  and 
a  van  Dyck  beard  ;  his 
wool  is  so  long  that 
sometimes  it  is  done  up 
in  papers,  that  it  may  be 
curled  up  off  the  ground 
and  not  trip  him.  He 
protects  ordinary  sheep 
against  wolves  and  dogs, 
and  always  keeps  out  of 
thickets,  that  he  may  not 
become  snarled  and  tan- 
gled to  such  a  degree 
that  he  will  fall  over 
himself  and  become  im- 
possible of  unraveling. 
His  song  is  an  emulsion  of 
the  susurra  and  the  frou- 
frou, and  we  thank  the 
author,  George  Fayette 
Thompson,  for  the  hour 
of  genuine  pleasure  that 
was  ours  while  reading 
his  luminous  exploitation 
of  the  Angora  goat. 

A  Relapse. 

Biggs  —  "I  under- 
stand  Lushleigh  was 
graduated  from  the  liq- 
uor -  cure  establishment 
not  long  ago." 

Boggs — "  He  was,  and 
he  went  back  two  weeks 
later  for  a  post-graduate 
course." 


A  Fall. 

Customer — "I  under- 
stand that  your  chef  has 
been  discharged." 

Waiter  —  "  Yes,  sir. 
He  has  gone  to  a  place 
where  they  call  him 
cook." 

Human  Nature. 

/"•IVE    a    play    a    bad 
name,  and  the  pub- 
lic will  stand  in  line  for 
-  hours  to  buy  tickets. 


PLENTY  OF  SPACE  OUTSIDE. 

Mrs.  Roonev— "  Th'  landlord  av  these  flats  sez  he'll  allow 
no  more  pigs  in  th'  house." 

Mrs.  Cassidv— "Faith,  thot's  raisonable  enoof,  Mrs.  Roo- 
ney,  wid  such  large,  roomy  foire-eshcapes  an'  an  illigant  roof." 


"  I  think,"  concluded  the  Soutli 
American  visitor,  "  that  this  in- 
cludes all  the  varieties  except  the 
revolutionist  absenteeisto,  which 
is  not  so  numerous  as  the  ones  I 
have  mentioned.  This  one  is  spo- 
radic, and  invariably  appears  in 
France,  England,  or  America, 
with  its  tendrils  wrapped  around 
the  remains  of  the  state  treasury." 


" 


RACING  TERM. 
Her  running  mate. 

The  South  American  Revolutionist. 

nHE  revolution  habit,"  said  the  visitor  from  South 
America,  "  is  apt  to  grow  on  one  until  he  does  not 
know  whether  he  is  a  patriot  or  a  pinwheel.  I  have 
made  a  careful  study  of  the  matter,  and  believe  that  the 
result  of  my  researches  will  be  of  material  benefit  to  science, 
and  perchance  of  some  aid  to  the  society  for  the  supply- 
ing peace  to  localities  with  overworked  wars.  I  have,  you 
might  say,  viewed  the  revolutionist  in  his  native  lair  and 
studied  him  both  coming  and  going,  and  I  have  learned 
that  he  is  to  be  divided  into  the  following  grades  : 

,  "  Revolutionist  politicalibus.  This  variety  grows  best 
when  barred  off  from  the  treasury  department.  Should  be 
planted  as  soon  a:s  possible  after  discovery. 

"  Revolutionist  religioso.     One  of  the  most  uncertain 
varieties  of  this  species.     Hard  to  culti- 
vate and  rather  unproductive. 

"Revolutionist conversationalito.  This 
variety  is  perennial.  May  be  recognized 
readily  by  the  large  mouth  and  proneness 
to  bloom  wherever  there  is  liquor  in  the 
vicinity. 

"  Revolutionist  militaris.  Easily  rec- 
ognized by  the  profusion  of  pronuncia- 
mentos  attached  to  it.  Grows  best  at  night. 
Some  fine  specimens,  however,  have  been 
plucked  in  the  public  grounds  during  the 
day-time. 

"  Revolutionist.  The  common  or  gar- 
den variety  of  revolutionist  is  discerned  by 
the  absence  of  a  shirt  and  the  raggedness  of 
the  trousers.  It  thrives  when  in  proximity 
to  the  revolutionist  politicalibus  or  milita- 
ris. It  grows  wild  under  these  conditions, 
and  will  be  found  in  luxuriant  bloom  near 
the  commissary  quarters.  Must  be  pro- 
vided with  rain-checks  when  weather  is 
unpropitious  for  revoluting. 


The  Indulgent  Papa. 

)OPPER,"  said  Beatrice  Bond- 
'       clipper,  "  my  new  automo- 
bile is  just  lovely." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  it,  daugh- 
ter," responded  Mr.  Bondclipper. 
"  But,  popper,  it  ought  to  have 
a  chauffeur." 

"Well,  Betty,"  said  Mr.  Bond- 
clipper,  who  at  times  forgot  that 
his  daughter  had  shifted  her  first 
name  after  attending  boarding-school,  "I  reckon  you  can 
have  it,  but  the  machine  is  pretty  well  cluttered  up  the 
way  it  stands.  You  have  two  kinds  of  automatic  brakes 
on  it,  and  an  umbrella-rack,  and  a  dog-carrier,  and  a 
nickel-plated  bundle-holder,  and — yes,  by  jings  !  you've  got 
a  whip-socket  on  the  thing — but  I  don't  see  where  you're 
going  to  fasten  this  here  chauf — this  here  what-you-call-it. 
But  go  ahead  and  get  it,  and  have  'em  send  the  bill  to  me, 
if  you  think  you  ought  to  have  it." 

A  Spellbinder. 

First  citizen — "  Talkaway  is  a  borti  orator." 

Second  citizen — "  Yes,   indeed.     It  is  only  when  you 

see  his  speeches  in  cold  type  that  you  realize  that  he  hasn't 

anything  to  say." 


^:^l|ife 


SUCH  CONSIDERATION! 

Mrs.  Haymow — "  Ef  you  will  draw  water  fer  a  half-hour  I'll  give  you  your 
dinner." 

Ennui  Eddie — "  Lady,  I'm  just  dyin'  ter  draw  water  ;  but  we  now  know  dat 
de  beautiful  symmetry  of  woman's  figure  kin  only  be  preserved  by  exercise,  an'  be 
it  far  from  me,  madam,  to  deprive  you  of  de  trainin'  w'ich  I  perceive  keeps  your 
Venus-like  form  in  all  its  youthful  shapeliness  an'  glory." 


^?^m 


^-■r 


1 


Monotony. 

ATE  met  a  discontented  man. 

"Why  are  you  discontented?" 
asked  Fate. 
i  "  Alas  !"   said    the    man,    "  my 

»     life  is  so  monotonous.     I  desire   a 
chansje  of  time  and  place." 

"  That  is  impossible,"  said  Fate. 
"  Nay,"  said  the  man  ;  •'  it  is  in 
your  power  to  transport  me  to  a 
distant  land  and  a  diflTerent  era." 
"  Choose,"  said  Fate. 
The  man's  eyes  sparkled. 
"-I  choose,"  he  replied,  "  Rome 
during  the  Augustan  age." 

His  wish  was  granted,  but  ere 
long  Fate  found  him  again  dis- 
consolate. 

'•  Why  are  you  discontented  ?"  asked  Fate. 
"  Alas  !  ■  he  said,  "  my  life  is  so  monotonous.     I  desire 
a  change  of  time  and  place." 
■■  Choose,"  said  Fate. 

"  I  choose  England  in  the  Elizabethan  age,"  said  the  man. 
His  wish  was  granted,  but  ere  long  Fate   found  him 
again  disconsolate. 

■'  Why  are  you  discontentfid  ?"  asked  Fate. 
"  Alas  I"  said  the  man,  "  my  life  is  so  monotonous.     I 
desire  a  change  of  time  and  place." 

"  Fool  !"   said   Fate.     "  Have   you    not  yet  discovered 
that  one  is  always  here  and  it  is  always  now  ?" 


^1 


4-  " 


HIS  DESIRE. 
Lazy   H.\nks — "I  wish   I   had   money  enough  ter  take  a 
Turkish  bath." 

Torn  Thompson—"  Wot !  Would  yertake  aTurkish  bath  ?" 
Lazy  Hanks — "  Oh,  no  ;  I'd  buy  a  keg  uv  beer  wid  it." 


\\'ELL   SUPPLIED. 
Mrs.  Jones — "  The  Chinese  alphabet  has  forty  thousand  characters." 
Mrs.  Brown — "  Dear  me  !  that's  more  than  our  cook  had  who  eloped  with  all  our  china." 


CT 


i 


Modern  Libeny. 

HE  stef>-daughters  of 
the  revolution  were 
in  convention  assem- 
bled. 

"  Madam    Presi- 
dent,"  said    an    elo- 
quent member  from 
Gotham,    "the    day 
has   come  when  we 
must  make  our  influ- 
^        ince    felt    upon    our 
*1T        beloved  countr)." 
*  4*  A  patter  of  refined 

applause  ran  around 
the  hall. 

"  I  move,"  cried 
the  member,  "  that 
\%e  go  in  a  body  to 
the  next  session  of 
congress  and  demand  in  clarion 
tones  that  the  goddess  of  liberty 
be  represented  hereafter  as  wear- 
ing a  straight  front.  Why,  the 
dowdy  old  back-number  statues 
they  are  erecting  now  are  a  dis- 
grace to  us  and  the  laughing-stock 
of  every  foreigner  who  knows  what 
the  fashions  are." 


H.\NDICAPPED. 
Beggar — "  Could  yer  help  a  poor  guy  dat's  starvin'  ?" 
L.\DY — '•  You  should  take  your  hat  off  when  you  ask  for  alms.' 
Beggar — "  I  can't,  mum  ;  it's  full  uv  sandwiches." 


They  Couldn't. 

THE  khan  went  to  visit  his  harem. 
They  asked  him,  "Oh,  khan !    can  we  can-can ?" 
He  growled  in  a  way  fit  to  scare  'em, 

'•  Vou  cannot  can-can,  but  the  khan  can." 


The  Power  of  Slang. 

THE  power  transmutative  of  slang 
With  wonder  strikes  me  dumb. 
The  man  once  called  a  big  "  sardine ' 
A  "  lobster  "  has  become. 


-^^^y^?^'-^'^.- 


m 


COMPLETELY   DRY. 
Mike — "  Ye  did  a  shmart  thrick,  ye  did,  whin  ye  let  th'  goat  eat  thot  prohibition 
paper.     She's  gone  complately  dhry." 


The   Fount  of    In- 
formation. 

HERE  will  you 
spend  the  summer, 
Miss  Lightfeet  ?" 
asked  the  reporter  of  the 
comic-opera  staress. 

"Confidentially,  my 
boy,"  she  told  him,  "  I  am 
going  to  papa's  little  old 
shack  in  Jersey  ;  but  if  it's 
information  you  want  for 
the  paper,  go  ask  my  press- 
agent.  I  don't  know 
whether  he  has  decided 
between  a  tour  of  the  Vo- 
semite  or  Aix-les-Bains  for 
vne." 

Obvious. 

(<THE  oak  is  my  fivorite 
'      tree,"  said  she. 
She  paused — he  took  the 
cue! 
"If  I  have  a  favorite  tree," 
said  he, 
"  It  is  undoubtedly  yew  !" 


A  Seaside  Chat. 

OW  do  you  do  ?"  said  the  man-o'-\var 
as  he  sailed  in  past  the  light-ship 
Arabella  B. 

"  Why,  howdydo,  Mr.  Nevv- 
sarge  ?"  replied  the  lady  lightship, 
waving  her  bow  at  him. 

"  How    are     you    enjoying    light 
housekeeping  ?"    asked   the   man-o'- 
war,  continuing  his  progress  up  the  channel. 
"  Pretty  well,"  she  answered  ;    "  but  it  is 
so  hanl  to  keep  my  buoys  behaving  properly. 
I   thmk  two   or  three  of  them  ran  away  last 
night.     If  you  see  any  of  them  playing  about 
in    the    channel    please    tell    them    to    hurry 
home,  won't  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  don't  be  too  severe  with  them,"  urged  the  man-o'- 
war.  "  We  older  fellows  can  get  along  all  right,  even  if 
they  do  try  to  play  pranks  on  us.  Remember  that  buoys 
will  be  buoys." 

And  he  bade  her  farewell  as  he  turned  to  salute  the 
fortress  gallantly. 


THE  wife  seems  disposed  to  hark  back  somewhat  into 
the  distant  past. 

"  You  are  not  like  you  used  to  be,"  she  says  to  the  hus- 
band. "  I  remember  how  you  used  to  swear  that  I  was 
an  angel." 

"  Well,"  replies  the  Drutal  man,  "  you  haven't  changed 
much.     You  are  as  flighty  as  ever." 


THE    HEAVING    SWELL. 
"  Yes,  it  was  so  rough  the  captain  thouglit  he'd  heave  to." 
"  And  what  did  you  do  ?" 
Why,  I  thought  it  best  to  heave,  too." 


THE  bald  head  will  agree  with  the  short-stop  that  a  fly  is 
not  always  as  easy  to  catch  as  it  looks. 


BEYOND   EXPECTATION. 
Mr.  Jones — "  See  here  !     This  horse  you  sold  me  runs  up  on  the  sidewalk  every  time  he  sees  an  auto." 
Horse-dealer — "  Well,  you  don't  expect  a  fifty-dollar  horse  to  run  up  a  telegraph-pole  or  climb  a  tree,  do  you?" 


A  FEW  APPROPRIATE  COMBINATIONS. 


Miss  Tongs,  the  hair-dresser. 


Prepared. 

Mrs.  Todds — "  Good 
heavens,  John  1  You're 
not  going  to  dinner  in 
that  sweater  ?" 

Mr.  Todds — "  Yes, 
my  dear.  The  landlady 
told  me  last  night  that 
she  was  going  to  call  on 
me  to  carve  the  turkey." 


A  Free  Translation. 

«/~'ANST  thou,  then,  minis- 
^  ter  to  a  mind  dis- 
eased ?"  casually  inquired  the 
eminent  exponent  of  the  drama, 
while  the  spot-light  sputtered 
radiantly. 

"  Wet's  dat  guy  gittin'  t'roo 
him  ?"  inquired  One-eyed  of 
Limpy  Lou,  his  companion  in 
the  gallery. 

"  He  means,  '  Have  yer  got 
any  dope  fer  a  bug-house  guy  ?'" 
was  the  lucid  explanation  of 
the  gentleman  addressed. 

The  Height  of  Realism. 

Scene-painter — "  When  you  write  your  next  story  try  to 
work  in  a  little  puff  for  me." 

Press-agent—"  All  right.     I'll  make  the  star  sprain  her 
ankle  by  slipping  on  one  of  the  rocks  you  painted. 


The  camel  is  now  called  the  automobile  of  the  desert. 


HE  ^/f^^ZK  ESCAPED. 

An  Illusion  Dispelled. 

THE  tourist  had  dropped  two  dollars  and  eighteen 
cents  mto  the  maw  of  the  slct-machine  that  stood 
in  Rome,  but  to  no  avail. 

The  little  indicator  stood  immovable  and  refused  to 

divulge    his    avoirdu- 
pois. 

"  Huh  !"  sneered 
the  tourist.  "  I  always 
did  think  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  fake 
about  this  Appian 
weigh." 

But    the    guide 
merely  suggested  that 
they   hie    onward    to 
The  stage-door  "Johnnie."  the  coliseum. 

Ambiguous. 
(( I-IE  MAY  mean  well,"  said  the   young  doctor,   "  but   I 
don't  exactly  like  the  tone  of  his  letter." 
"  What's  the  matter  ?"  inquired  the  old  practitioner. 
"Jones, the  undertaker, 
writes  and  says  that  if  I 
will   send   my  patients  to 
him     he    will     guarantee 
them  satisfaction." 


ILLUSTRATED  SLANG. 
"  Throwing  a  fit" 


Useless  to  Her. 

((  /~"  HOLLY  has  room  to 
^^    let    in    his    upper 
story,"  said  Miss   Frocks 
to  Miss  Kittish. 

"  But  I  don't  wish  to 
rent  a  flat,"  added  the 
latter. 


The  sport)'  friend. 


"  With  the  aid  of  my  mesmeric  influence  I  put  the  subject  into  a  hypnotic  sleep,  causing  him  to  remain  upon  the 
Dacks  of  the  chairs 


Proper  Exercises. 

A  LITTLE  boy,  spending  the  summer  at  the  seashore, 
was  greatly  interested  in  the  opening  of  the  lobster-pots 
and  wished  to  have  them  opened  one  Sunday  morning. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  said  his  mother  ;  "  we  '11  wait  until  to- 
morrow.    To-day  is  .Sunday." 

"  But,  mamma,"  persisted  the  little  fellow,  "  couldn't 
we  open  them  with  prayer  ?" 


An  Unreasonable  Request. 

Mr.  Hardfist — "  Well,  what  do  you  want  ?" 
Quilldriver  (his  clerk) — "  I  thought  I'd  like  to  ask  for 

a  vacation,  sir" 

il/r.  Hardfist — "  Vacation  ?    Why,  you've  already  been 

away  for  a  month  sick  and  you  're  not  able  to  do  your 

work  now,  and  yet  you    come    and    ask    for  a   vacation. 

No,  sir  !" 


in  this  position,  as  you  can  plainly  see.' 

DID  NOT  WORK  RIGHT. 


WILLIE  BACKBAY'S   CONFESSION 


1  lope  on  the  flagstone  at  morning  and  night. 
And  peddle  the  J^'c'ws  %\  iih  a  grin  of  delight ; 
I  yell  of  great  battles  that  never  were  fought, 
And  all  my  big  pack  in  a  jiffy  is  bought. 

I  shout  like  a  war-painted  Indian,  you  bet. 
And  smoke,  while  I'm  shouting,  the  gay  cisjarette, 
And  whirl  in  my  flight  like  a  der\'ish  of  song, 
Until  my  staccalo  is  heard  in  Hong-Kong. 

And  then  when  my  coins  in  the  twilight  I  count 
The  charger  of  rapture  instanter  I  mount 
And  glide  to  my  chateau  upon  the  Back  bay, 
And  fancy  I  lounge  on  tlie  sward  in  Cathay. 

And  that's  why  I'm  ever  alert  and  elate, 
While  dancing  and  snapping  my  fingers  at  fate. 
And  filling  the  ambient  zephyr  apace 
With  news  of  the  battles  that  never  took  place. 

Not  Always. 

((  IVJO  ;  the  models  are  not  a  bad  lot,"  says  the  artist. 
'  ''       "I  hardly  thought  they  could  be  as  bad  as 
you  paint  them,"  comments  the  friend. 


TOO  GOOD   FOR   HIM. 

Casey  (from  his  hiding-place) — "  Whist,  Muldoon  !  How's 
th'  Or-rangeman  Oi  shwatted  yisterday?" 

MuLDOON — "  He's  in  th'  hospital,  hangin'  betwixt  loife  an' 
death." 

C.A.SEY — •' Hangin'    is  he?     Shure,  thot's  too  good  fer  him. " 


"BOXING   HIS   EARS,' 


Where  G.  W.  Was  Shy. 

/-EORGE    WASHINGTON,    so 
^-^        history  saith, 

A  sportsman  true  was  he, 
And  yet  he  never  in  his  life 

A  fisherman  could  be. 

He  never  to  the  brookside  went 

To  cast  the  bait  or  fly. 
He    lacked    the    angler's   chiefest 

gift- 
He  could  not  tell  a  lie  ! 

Too  Bad  I 

Lawyer — "  What  are  you 
kicking  for  ?  You  got  only  a 
year." 

Fair  client — "  It  might  as 
well  have  been  twenty.  By  the 
time  I  get  out  I  will  be  forgot- 
ten, and  then  I  can't  go  on  the 
stage." 

He  Knew. 

Winierbottom  (delivering  a 
temperance  oration)  —  "  Yes, 
gentlemen,  I  know  from  per- 
sonal experience  that  in  the  city 
of  Bangor,  Maine,  you  can  get 
a  drink  of  whiskey  on  every 
street  comer !" 


THE  AGE  OF  FADS. 

Mrs.  Crawford — "In  what  way  is  your  httle  boy 
too  delicate  to  attend  the  public  schools  ?" 

Mrs.  Crabshaw — "He  isn't  strong  enough  to  carry 
home  all  the  books  the  children  have  to  study." 


Journalism. 

pX-TREE  !     All  the  latest  news  1 
*"•    P'lice    at    work    on    murder 

clews  ! 
Big  elopement  from  Cohoes  ! 
Knock-out  drops !  a  hot  prize-fightl 
Man  held  up  in  broad  daylight ! 
Croker  says  New  York 's  all  right ! 
'Nother  bank  has  gone  to  smash — 
Teller  skipped  with  all  the  cash ! 
Rich  man  poisoned  eating  hash ! 
Crime,  insanity,  and  booze ! 
Comic  section  for  the  blues  ! 
Ex-tree  !     All  the  latest  news  I 

One  on  the  Colonel. 

Burnett — "  Colonel  Blower 
showed  me  a  bible  that  saved 
his  life  during  the  war." 

Garnett — "But  did  you 
notice  that  he  carries  it  in  the 
hind  pocket  of  his  trousers  ?" 


(( 


The  Latest. 

UE   has   arranged    for   the 
very     latest    attraction 
for  his  circus  next  season." 
"  What  is  it  ?" 
"  A  group  of  trained  auto- 
mobiles." 


P'UPID  is  but  a  sorry  marksman,  and  would  save  a  lot       A   NEW  Prince  Albert  and  a  silk  hat  are  more  potent  fac- 
of  time  by  using  a  rapid-fire  rifle.  tors  in  drawingf  young  men  to  church  than  any  minister. 


rawmg  young  i 


ON  THE  LAST  DAY'S  SKATING. 
Parson  Jones — "  Once  there  was  a  little  boy  who  went  skating  on  Sunday.      Now,  do  you  know  what  terrible  thing  happened 
to  that  little  boy  ?" 

Boy — '•  Y-yes,  sir.     I  s'pose  his  folks  made  him  go  to  church  three  times  the  next  week  to  pay  for  it." 


A  Three-cornered  Affair 


Bj  Tom  Masson 


I  TOOK  in  the  situation  at  a  glance.  Helen  had  two 
fellow,  on  the  string. 
It  was  pretty  tiard  to  come  two  hundred  miles  to 
find  that  out — especially  when,  a  month  before,  I  had 
bid  Helen  good-bye  at  the  station  in  town,  and  there 
was  a  look  in  her  eyes — well,  that  seemed  to  be  for  me 
alone.  It  li^d  given  me  a  comfortable  feeling  all  along, 
and  especishy  as  Helen's  letters  seemed  to  exhale  a  certain 
atmosphere-  of  disconsolateness — just  as  if  she  really 
missed  me. 

Yet  hep;  was  the  solemn  truth.  I  hadn't  been  in  Bal- 
lington  Inn  an  hour  before  I  knew  it. 

Of  course  she  met  me  at  the  station.  I  took  it  afterward 
that  she  had  to  be  ordinarily  decent — especially  as  I  had 
come  two  hundred  miles  to  see  her,  and  her  alone.  For 
Helen  knew  how  I  hated  inns  and  all  kinds  of  conven- 
tional resoi  (J. 

She  greeted  me,  indeed,  quite  cordially.  She  really 
seemed  quite  glad  to  see  me.  But,  then,  Helen  has  a  way 
of  being  pi.  ::»sant  to  every  one — I  thought  of  this  quite  bit- 
terly that  night  as  I  made  up  my  mind  to  take  the  first 
train  in  the  morning  back  to  town.  Of  course  I  didn't  go. 
For  when  tl:e  morning  came  I  had  determined  to 
stick  it  oul  another  day.  Certainly  I  wasn't  go- 
ing to  let  those  two  chaps  get  the  best  of  me  so 
easily  as  that. 

We  came,  into  the  inn  from  the  station  on  the 
buckboard  It  was  a  two-mile  drive.  The  road 
was  the  kind  called  corduroy — and  we  got  some 
heavy  jolts.  Still,  I  managed  to  take  Helen's 
hand,  and  ii.e  didn't  seem  to  mind.  After  all,  at 
that  moment  it  seemed  quite  worth  while  to  have 
come  all  tl.U  distance.  There  was  the  first  em- 
barrassment that  always  comes  to  lovers  long 
separated- -i-'Ut  our  eyes  told  volumes.  I  was 
glad  also  li  at  we  were  surrounded  by  forests. 
There  wou'.c  be  chances  for  me  to  have  Helen  all 
to  myself  in  such  a  wilderness. 

I  had  scarcely  registered,  however,  before,  as 
I  turned  atound,  I  overheard  a  buzz  of  conversa- 
tion. The  tsvo  had  come  up.  Helen  introduced 
them  rapidly. 

"  Mr.  P.jilard,  Mr.  Castleton.  Mr.  Bertrand, 
Mr.  Castle)  c.n." 

They  not  ded  cheerfully.  I  could  feel  myself 
growing  un  asy. 

"Say,  51. ss  Helen,"  said  Mr.  Pollard,  "can  I 
have  the  fi'tt  dance  to-night  ?" 

"  And,'  U-joke  in  Mr.  Bertrand,  "  I  claim  the 
second." 

These  I  no  chaps  were  'mmaculately  dressed 
in  white-fl  t  inel  suits.  They  were  apparently 
cast  in  the  i  ime  mould. 


I  didn't  dance  myself — I  hated  it.  Her  answer  made 
me  desperate. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Helen.  She  looked  at  me  as  if  to 
get  my  sanction,  or  as  if  she  had  really  done  something  of 
which  she  expected  me  to  approve.  At  any  rate,  I  didn't 
approve.  I  could  feel  myself  growing  warm  with  rage. 
To  think  that  I  had  come  two  liundred  miles  only  to  find 
that  the  girl  I  counted  on  was  as  fickle  as  that. 

"  I  must  see  about  my  room,"  I  said,  and  broke  away 
and  went  up  stairs. 

When  I  came  back  they  were  all  three  sitting  together. 
It  was  in  the  front  hall.     Helen  got  up. 

"  Shall  we  all  go  for  a  walk  ? "  she  said.  "  I  war.t  to 
show  you  the  surroundings." 

"  Let's,"  said  Mr.  Pollard. 

"  Let's,"  said  Mr.  Bertrand. 

There  was  an  old-fashioned,  apparently  genuine  toma- 
hawk over  the  mantel.  I  could  have  taken  it  down  glai/'.y 
and  brained  these  two  Willie-boys  on  the  spot.  And  to 
think  Helen  had  invited  them  to  go  with  us  ! 

But  I  controlled  myself.  At  the  first  oppoitunity  1 
would  tell  Helen  what  I  thought  of  the  whole  affair — and 


"THEN   I   UNDERSTOOD." 


especially  what  I  thought  of  her — and  that  would  end  it. 
Then  I  would  go  back  to  town  and  begin  life  over  again. 

We  walked  in  pairs — Mr.  Pollard  and  Helen,  Mr.  Ber- 
trand  and  myself.  Bertrand  talked  like  a  phonograph.  I 
answered  in  monosyllables. 

It  was  not  until  just  after  dinner,  however,  and  before 
the  dancing  began,  that  I  had  an  opportunity  to  get  Helen 
alone.     I  came  face  to  face  with  her  on  the  piazza. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "Jack,  dear,  I've  been  looking  for 
you." 

"And  I  for  you,"  I  said  sternly.  "  What's  the  mean- 
ing of  this  ?" 

"  Of  what  ?"  she  inquired  innocently. 

"  Why,  of  these  two  chaps  following  you  around.  Do 
you  suppose  I  came  up  liere  to  make  love  to  them  ?" 

"  They  are  awfully  nice." 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so.  I've  my  humble  opinion — 
they  are  two  first-class  chumps." 

"  Now,  Jack  " 

"  I'm  going  back  to-morrow." 

"  You  mustn't.  They  like  you  so  much.  Mr.  Pollard 
said  " 

"  Hang  what  he  said  !"  I  exclaimed.  "  Don't  you  see 
they  are  in  the  way  ?  Besides,  you  have  treated  me 
pretty  badly.     You've  got  to  choose." 

Helen  put  her  hand  on  my  arm.  "  Now,  Jack, "  she 
said,  "be  nice  to  them,  won't  you  ?  I  have  a  particular 
reason  for  asking  you.  You  know  they  are  in  reality  very 
nice  fellows — they  come  from  splendid  families.  And 
have  you  noticed  how  well  dressed  they  are,  and  how 
nicely  they  look  together  ?  Really,  you  would  go  a  long 
way  before  you  found  any  handsomer  young  men  than 
Mr.  Pollard  and  Mr.  Bertrand." 


,,,on>">»n''.''  -J 


'WHERE   ARE   YOU   GOING?'   SHE   DEMANDED.' 


I  Stared  at  her  in  utter  amazement.  Col  il  this  be  the 
girl  I  loved — the  girl  I  had  always  thougb  !  so  genuine 
and  true  ? 

At  this  instant  the  music  started  up.     A  voice  came 
out  of  the  darkness.     It  was  the  dulcet  voice  'A  Pollard. 
"My  dance,  please." 

I  strode  away  in  the  utmost  disgust.  Wh?'t  was  to  be 
done?  I  went  down  toward  the  lake  to  I'link  it  over. 
Here  I  had  come  all  this  distance,  and  at  s  time  when 
business  really  almost  made  it  necessary  to  stay  at  the 
office,  to  find  that  my  whole  opportunity  of  jceing  Helen 
was  being  usurped  by  these  chaps,  whom  I  ha  1  come  to  de- 
test. The  worst  of  it  was,  I  could  not  tell  for  Uie  life  of  me 
which  one  she  really  cared  for.  That,  however,  did  not 
really  matter.  That  she  cared  for  either  of  them  was  bad 
enough.  Somehow  it  seemed  to  me  in  the  nature  of  a 
disgrace. 

Well,  what  was  I  to  do  ?  I  thought  it  over  for  hall 
an  hour,  silting  on  the  lonely  boat-house  th  ii  night,  and 
then  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  stick  it  out.  As 
long  as  I  was  there  I  would  make  the  most  c'it.  I  would 
go  my  own  way  and  have  the  best  time  I  cc  lid.  It  isn't 
my  nature  to  mope,  and  I  set  my  teeth  togeth  ;rand  swore 
that  I  wouldn't  let  the  prettiest  and  sweete  t  girl  I  had* 
€ver  known  get  the  best  of  me  for  the  sake  oT  two  human 
fashion-plates. 

I  got  up  the  boatman  and  told  him  to  get  me  a  canoe. 
Just  then  I  heard  voices. 

"Oh,  Jack  !"  exclaimed  Helen.  "  I've  been  looking  for 
you  everywhere.     What  are  you  going  to  do  }" 

"  I'm  going  out  on  the  lake,"  I  replied  doggedly. 

"  What!  at  night?" 

"  Yes." 

"  How  jolly  !"  exclaimed  the  voice  of  Mr.  pollard. 

"  Delightful  !"  cried  Mr.  Bertrand. 

"  Let's  make  up  a  party,"  said  Helen.  "  '  ome.  Jack  ; 
take  us  all.     You  row  so  splendidly  !" 

They  piled  in,  and,  there  being  no  help  f  jr  it,  I  went 
along. 

The  next  morning  I  determined,  however,  to  circum- 
vent them.  As  long  as  I  couldn't  have  He  en  alone  I 
would  get  along  by  myself.  Besides,  I  was  f;i  1  of  rage  to 
think  Helen  would  permit  such  things.  Evidently  it  was 
all  off  between  us,  in  spite  of  what  she  had  j;iven  me  to 
understand  in  the  days  gone  by. 

I  got  up  early  and,  having  fortunately  bi ought  along 
my  pack-basket,  determined  to  start  out  on  a  I'lng  tramp. 
The  cook  of  the  inn  provided  me  with  a  steak,  potatoes, 
a  broiling-iron,  and  other  accessories,  and  I  had  just 
packed  them  in  the  basket,  put  the  straps  over  my  shoul- 
ders, and  was  starting  off,  when  I  heard  a  cry  from  one  of 
the  upper  windows. 

"  Oh,  Jack  !" 

It  was  Helen's  voice.  She  had  seen  n;'.  from  her 
room. 

"  Wait  a  moment  and  I'll  be  down." 

Of  course  I  had  to  wait.    There  was  nothing  else  to  do. 
"Where    are   you   going?"  she  demanded   as,  almost 
breathless  in  the  hurry  of  dressing,  she  came  out  from  the 
porch. 

"  On  a  tramp — all  day.** 


"I  thought  you 
came  up  here  to  see 
me. " 

"  You  are  otherwise 
occupied." 

"  Oh  ,  Jack,  now, 
please  !" 

I  readjusted  the  bas- 
ket. "  Good  -bye  !"  I 
said,  and  started  off. 

"Jack,  you  don't 
understand.     I  " 

More  voices.  Pol- 
lard and  Bertrand, 
dressed  in  golf-clothes, 
suddenly  appeared. 

"  Be  nice  to  them, 
for  my  sake,"  whisper- 
ed Helen. 

Once  more  I  drop- 
ped the  basket. 

"  Off  on  a  tramp  ?"  asked  Pollard. 

I  nodded. 

"  How  jolly  !"  exclaimed  Bertrand, 
Miss  Helen  ?" 

"  I  \\-asn't  asked,"  said  Helen  with  a  pout. 

"You  know,"  I  said,  "you  could  come  along  if  you 
wanted  to." 

Helen  suddenly  laughed  and  her  face  lighted  up. 

"Let's  all  go!"  she  exclaimed.  "We'll  make  up  a 
party.  I'll  get  a  chaperon.  Come,  Mr.  Pollard  ;  you  help 
Mr.  Castleton  repack  his  basket — for  of  course  we'll  need 
more  things." 

"Won't  it  be  fun  !"  cried  Pollard. 


"  Were  you  going, 


DIFFERENT  NOW. 
"  Bobbie,  can  you  tell  me  why  George  Washington  was  such  a  great  man?" 
"  Yes,  sir  ;  he  got  to  be  President  withoat  evei'  telling  a  lie." 
"  But  that  was  very  long  ago,  my  son." 


ON   THE  TRAIL. 

"  Simply  grand  !"  exclaimed  Bertrand. 
It  was  no  particular  fun  for  me  to  cook  the  dinner  for 
two  such  chappies  as  these,  but  I  got  even  with  them  by 
making  them  wash  dishes,  though  I  am  bound  to  say  they 
made  no  objection. 

That  night  we  were  all  tired  and  went  to  bed  early 
But  I  woke  up  at  midnight,  and,  thinking  it  all  over,  and 
Helen's  cruelty,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  give  the  affair  up. 
The  next  morning  I  made  my  arrangements  to  leave  on 
the  first  train. 

I  took  an  early  breakfast ;  then  I  started  down  to  the 
lake  for  a  last  look.  On  the  way  back  I  came  face  to  face 
with  Helen.     She  betrayed  anxiety. 

"  I've   been    looking    for  you 
everywhere  !"  she  cried.    "  Surely 
this  is  not  true — you  are  not  go- 
ing ?     The  clerk  told  me." 
"  Yes  ;   I  am." 

There    was    a    rustic  seat  in 

a  by-path,  and  we  both  sat  down. 

"  You've  been  horrid   to  me," 

said  Helen,  "  ever  since  you  came. 

You  haven't " 

"  I  haven't  been  any  worse  to 
you  than  you  have  been  to  me," 
I  replied. 

Helen  began  to  cry  softly. 
"  You  told  me  once,"  she  said, 
"  that — that  you  loved  me." 

"1  do,"  I  replied.  I  was  be- 
ginning to  feel  rather  queer  myself. 
"  Of  course  I  love  you,  Helen,"  I 
said.  I  had  to  put  my  arm  around 
her  then.  It  seemed  the  most 
natural  thing  to  do.  "  Haven't  I 
told  you  I  loved  you  ?"  I  went  on. 
"  Haven't  I  said  that  you  were  the 
only  girl  I  ever  thought  about  ' 
Didn't    I    come    two    hundred 


miles  so   I  could    be   with   you  ? 


And  when  I  got  here  what  did  I  find  ?  That  1 
couldn't  even  get  near  you." 

Helen  looked  up  and  smiled  through  her  tears. 

"Don't  you  understand,  Jack,  dear  ?"  she  said. 
"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  before,  but  " She  blushed. 

"  No,"  I  replied  bluntly  ;  "  I  don't  understand. 
What  is  it  ?    Why  do  you  tolerate  those — those  " 

Words  failed  me. 

"  Why,  because  they  are  so  smart-looking  and 
handsome,  and  have  such  perfect  manners.  Only, 
Jack,  dear,  from  the  way  you  have  been  treating 
rne,  I  was  almost  afraid  that  it  really  wasn't  going 
to  be  necessary  to  cultivate  them." 

"  Necessary  !"  I  repeated.  "  What  do  you  mean  ? 
Explain  yourself." 

"  Why,  Jack,"  replied  Helen,  "  have  you,  or  can 
you  have,  the  faintest,  remotest  idea  of  how  hard  it 
is  to  get  good-looking  ushers  nowadays  ?  Look  at 
Bessie  Billings's  wedding.  What  awful -looking 
things  she  had.  And  don't  you  see.  Jack,  dear, 
why  I  want  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  Mr.  Pollard 
and  Mr.  Bertrand  ?" 

Then  I  understood. 

Not  as  Bad  as  It  Might  Have  Been. 

I(  nOOR  Nipsley  !     It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  him." 
"  Nipsley  ?    I  haven't  heard  about  it.    What's 
the  matter  ?  " 

"  It  was  very  sudden.  He's  all  broken  up.  I  saw 
him  yesterday,  and  he  told  me  he  didn't  know  how 
he  could  get  along  without  her.  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  wouldn't  have  believed  before  it  happened 
that  he'd  have  taken  it  so  hard.  He  hasn't  been 
able  to  attend  to  business  or  to  " 

"  Say,  for  heaven's  sake  !  why  don't  you  tell  a 
fellow  about  it  ?    What's  the  old  boy's  trouble  ?" 

"  His  wife  's  dead." 

•'  Oh,  Lord  !  I  thought  from  the  way  you  spoke  that 
somebody  must  have  come  along  and  hired  his  typewriter 
girl  away  from  him." 


«TH'  empty  waggin,"  said   Uncle    Josh   this  morning, 
"  alius  rattles  most,  b' jinks  !" 


IN  AN  ENGAGEMENT  RING. 
■•  The  diamond  is  the  hardest  known  substance,  I  believe." 
"  Yes — to  get." 

Had  Stayed  the  Limit. 

Saint  Peter — "  Hello  !  what  do  you  want  ?" 
Female  angel — "  Let  me  out.     I'm  going  away." 
Saint  Peter — "  What's  the  matter?      Don't  you  like 

heaven  ?" 

Female  angel — "  Oh,  it's  a  fairly  good  plaee  ;    but  I've 

been  here  for  two  weeks  and    must  have  a  change.     You 
know  I  was  a  cook  before  I  died." 


That  Cherry-tree  Story. 

{  THE  fact  that  Georgia  could  not  lie 
^      Dues  not  appeal  to  me." 
Said  Ibsen  Browning  Emerson 

Of  Boston,  aged  just  three. 
It  showed  his  small  abilily — 

Imagination  poor. 
He'd  make  no  great  impression  now 

Were  he  alive,  I'm  sure. 
Had  he  remarked,  '  I  will  nol  lie,' 

It  would  have  shown  he  could 
Yet  would  not.     Then  I  might  admit 

His  claim  to  being  good." 


EVIDENTLY   HONEST. 
Mr.  Sportleigh — "  Were  you  ever  kissed  before?" 
Miss  Antique — "No— honest." 


^l  CHE  made  him  sign  the  pledge 
>J     when  they  were  married." 
"  I  always  heard  that  marriage 

affected  a  man's  spirits." 


The  Secrets   of  a  Sibyl 


By  La  louche  Hancock 


1 

1 

ER  name  was  Sibyl.  She  was  young  and 
romantic.  That  is,  she  was  eighteen. 
She  had  a  decided  leaning  toward  the 
mysterious,  and  when  she  discovered 
that  she  mi;^ht  possibly  have  acquired 
her  name  from  the  reputed  writer  of 
the  Sibylline  oracles,  she  was  more 
than  delighted.  If  she  had  inherited 
the  name  of  the  prophetess,  why  should 
not  a  certain  amount  of  the  lady's 
power  have  descended  to  her  ? 

She  immediately  went  to  the  Aster 
library  and  searched  for  facts.  She 
found  that  the  oracular  sayings,  trans- 
lated into  English,  were  in  blank 
verse.  She  was  not  a  bit  discouraged. 
She,  too,  was  a  poet.  Besides,  the 
blank  verse  was  very  blank.  It  was 
oot  Shakespearean  by  any  means.  Even  Stephen  Phillipps 
would  have  been  ashamed  of  it !  She  could  do  better 
than  that.  She  would.  She  would  write  her  oracles  ir» 
rhyme. 

She  discovered  that  there  were  fifteen  Sibylline  books, 
with  another  added  by  Julius  Caesar,  probably  just  to  re- 
Store  an  equilibrium.  She  would  contribute  still  another 
volume — perhaps  two.  But  how  should  she  begin  ?  An 
idea  struck  her.  She  would  try  her  powers  on  her  elder 
brother.  Elder  brothers  have  a  habit  of  patronizing  their 
younger  sisters.  He  should  do  so  no  longer.  She  was 
not  a  nonentity,  and  he  should  acknowledge  the  fact- 
'  Then  she  began  to  elaborate  her  plan.  She  knew  her 
\j.'Other,  whose  name  was  Tom  — most  brothers'  names  are 
Tom,  or  Jack,  especially  in  fiction— had  written  his  "Con- 
iiessions "  in  a  book,  which  her  friend,  Mary  Jones,  kept 
(or  that  purpose.  She  had  read  them.  Therefore  she 
knew  exactly  what  his  answers  were  to.  "  What  is  your 
favorite  color  ?"  "  Whom  would  you  like  to  be  if  you 
weren't  yourself .-'"  and  other  wise  questions.  Yes,  she 
would  begin  with  him.  She  was  sure  to  be  right  in  his 
case.  But  was  that  quite  honest  ?  Why  not  ?  Did  not 
conjurers  enlist  the  aid  of  a  confederate  ?  What  was  the 
difference  r  Besides,  there  was  a  doubt  whether  these 
Sibylline  books  had  been  writteD  by  Sibylla,  or  some  sen- 
ators of  that  period  to  suit  their  own  views.  There  was, 
then,  a  certain  amount  of  politics  in  it,  and — well,  any- 
thing  was  fair  in  politics  I  Moreover,  (lie  books  were  not 
concerned  with  morality  or  a  future  existence.  Her  con- 
science was  satisfied.  Her  brother  Tom  should  be  her 
first  victim.  Success  with  him  would  be  the  first  step 
toward  convincing  other  people  of  her  powers.  They 
would  think  she  had  second,  or,  maybe,  third  sight.  She 
only  required  practice,  and  eventually  she  would  master 
the  art  as  easily  as  an  engineer  drives  a  locomotive.  He 
merely  opens  the  throttle.  She  would  open  her  throttle  I 
The  simile  was  not  elegant,  but  decidedly  appropriate. 


Leaving  all  predictions,  therefore,  to  the  prognosti. 
cators  of  the  weather  bureau,  she  determined  to  begin  by 
asking  Tom  to  inquire  of  her  what  his  favorite  flowei 
might  be,  what  poet  he  most  admired,  and,  lastly,  the 
name  of  his  lady-love. 

It  was  necessary  to  explain  to  Tom  what  she  intended 
to  do.  Probably  he  would  laugh.  He  did.  That  did 
not  disconcert  her. 

"Tom,"  said  Sibyl,  "ask  me  what  your  favorite 
flower  is." 

Tom  asked. 

Shutting  her  eyes,  and  assuming  a  dreamy  attitude, 
she  clasped  her  head  and  swayed  backward  and  forward. 
Tom  inquired  in  a  brutal  way  if  there  was  anything  the 
matter. 

"  Hush  !"  said  Sibyl.     "  Listen  !" 

Tom  was  all  attention. 

"  You  ask  me  to  tell  you  your  favorite  flower, 
I  see  it  in  many  a  blossoming  bower; 
'Tis  fair  to  the  eye  and  'tis  sweet  to  the  nose, 
We  mortals  all  call  it  the  beautiful I" 

She  faltered  at  the  last  word. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?"  said  Tom. 

"Supply  the  last  rhyme  yourself,  and  you  have  the 
answer,"  said  Sibyl,  sinking  into  a  chair. 

As  "  nose  "  could  not  by  any  possibility  rhyme  with 
"  lily  of  the  valley,"  or  "  geranium,"  or  any  other  flower 
he  could  think  of,  Tom  was  obliged  to  say  "  rose." 

"  Is  that  your  favorite  flower  ?"  asked  Sibyl  in  a  deep 
voice. 

"  More  or  less,"  answered  Tom. 

"  I  knew  it,"  said  Sibyl. 

"I  thought  as  much,"  replied  her  brother.  "What's 
the  next  ?" 

"  Ask  me  who  your  favorite  poet  is." 

Tom  did. 

"  Don't  exhaust  yourself.  I'm  ready  to  stop  when 
you  are." 

Sibyl  did  not  deign  a  reply.  Rising  from  her  chair, 
and  again  clasping  her  forehead,  she  chaunted  the  follow- 
ing: 

"  The  truth  of  life  each  mortal  man 
From  some  great  poet  learns. 
And  you  are  gath'ring  all  you  can 
From  wicked  bonnie I" 

"  Is  that  right  ?"  asked  Sibyl. 

"Quite  correct.  Did  you  know  that  before?  I  only 
ask  because  I  think  you  might  have  given  yourself  more 
time  to  hit  on  a  better  rhyme  to  '  Burns.*  However,  I 
suppose  '  learns '  is  a  poetical  license.  Proceed."  He 
took  out  his  watch.     "  I  can  give  you  five  minutes  more." 

"The  maiden  you  love  the  best  I"  said  Sibyl  with  [in- 
creased solemnity. 

••  Well,  perhaps  you'll  be  able  to  enlighten  me  on  that 


point."  Tom  laughed.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  am  partic- 
ularly in  love  with  any  one." 

"  Then  you  must  be  told." 

"  All  right,  but  don't  let  the  young  lady  become  aware 
of  your  opinion.  It  might  be  awkward  if  your  views  and 
mine  didn't  quite  coincide." 

But  Sibyl  was  ready  with  the  answer. 

"  You  say  you  don't  know  who  your  sweetheart  may  be? 
From  the  land  of  the  cakes  and  the  scones 
She  conies  with  a  heart  that  is  longing  for  thee. 
It  is  no  one  but  sweet !" 

"  Phew  !"  and  Tom  whistled.  "  Is  that  so  ?  Mnry 
Jones  ?  Well,  you've  got  a — but,  say,  that  Sibylline  verse 
of  yours  is  rather  l)ad,  you  know.  You  begin  with 
'  you '  and  end  up  with  '  thee,'  That  won't  do  for  a 
Sibyllite  !" 

"  It  is  no  worse  than  what  Sibylla  wrote  herself." 

"  No  !  It  couldn't  be,  but — well,  wake  your  muse  up 
a  little.  She's  too  slow.  Now,  if  I  were  you  I'd  spend  a 
day  in  Twenty-eighth  street.  They'd  tell  you  how  to 
write  verse  in  a  few  minutes,  I  must  be  going  now. 
Anything  to  pay .''  No  ?  Oh  !  I  always  thought  there 
was  money  connected  with  these  games  !     Ta,  ta  !" 

Sibyl  sat  down  and  almost  cried.  Tom  had  treated 
the  whole  thing  with  ridicule.  She  could  bear  anything 
but  that. 

Ah! 

"  Who  is  he  at  yonder  gate  ? 
I  feel  at  last  my  longed-for  fate !" 

Sibyl  had  got  so  into  the  way  of  turning  everything 
into  rhyme  by  this  time  that  it  came  naturally 

The  man  at  the  garden  gate  was  Augustus.  Augustus 
was  in  love  with  Sibyl,  but  he  was  shy.  Sibyl  thought 
that  a  man  with  such  a  name  had  no  business  to  be  shy, 
especially  as  he  had  wealth.  Sibyl  knew  that  Augustus 
was  in  love  with  her — also  that  he  had  money.  There- 
fore Sibyl  was  in  love  with  him.  Augustus  was  not  a 
genius.  He  had  no  spirit  of  satire,  like  Tom.  Here  was 
Sibyl's  chance.  She  would  try  her  powers  of  divmation 
on  him.  He  woul '  not  dare  to  be  rude.  She  would 
explain,  and,  perhsiH,  in  the  end  drag  out  the  proposal 
she  wanted.  She  did — both  things.  But  we  must  not 
anticipate. 

■'Your  favorite  flower?'  said  she. 

"  The  !il" — —  he  answered  quickly,  bui  she  Inter- 
rupted him. 

'  You  mustn't  teii  me.     I  will  tell  you  " 

Thereupon  she  began, 

'•  You  love  the  bud  of  the  blushing  rose, 

You  love  the  daffydowndilly. 

But  everything  in  your  nature  shows 

You  prefer  the  slender  !  " 

"  Is  that  the  answer  ?"  said  Augustus. 
"  Yes  !     You  put  in  the  last  word,  and  that's  it." 
As  "  lily  "  had  been  on  Augustus'  slips,  he  immediately 
sup])lied  the  word. 

"  Now,  your  favorite  poet.  No  !  don't  tell  me.  Lis- 
ten ! 

"  The  poet  you  admire  the  most 
Was  Irish  to  the  core  ; 
He  came  from  Erin's  emerald  coast, 
His  name  is I 


"  Is  that  right  ?"  asked  Sibyl. 

"  Quite  !"  answered  Augustus,  not  knowing  in  the  least 
who  the  poet  might  be. 

"  So  Thomas  Moore  is  your  favorite  poet  ?" 

"  Yes  !  Lovely  verse  he  wrote.  Now  I  think  his 
'  Crossing  the  Bar  '  " 

"  Oh,  no  !     That  was  by  Tennyson." 

"  So  it  was  !     I'm  always  confusing  them.     Er what's 

the  next  question  ?"  said  Augustus,  eager  to  hide  his  con- 
fusion. 

Sibyl  blushed 

"  'Whom  do  you  love  the  most  ? ' 

"  Mother  !"  exclaimed  Augustus  without  thinking. 

"  No  !  No  !  I  don't  mean  that  kind  of  love.  With 
whom  are  you  in  love  ?" 

"Oh  !"  and  Augustus  rose  to  the  occasion  as  well  as 
his  modesty  would  allow.     "  That's  telling  !" 

"  I'll  tell  you." 

She  hesitated  and  took  on  a  dreamy  pose.  Then  she 
murmured, 

"  Your  love  you  never  will  declare. 
But  hesitate  and  quibble. 
The  maiden  who  your  lot  would  share 
Is  no  one  else  but !" 

It  was  a  mean  advantage  to  take  of  Augustus.  Still  k 
was  not  unfeminine.  It  was  only  done  more  openly  than 
usual. 

"  Who  is  It  ?     I  can't  think  !" 

If  it  hasn't  been  recorded  before  that  Augustus  f.^s  aa 
idiot  the  fact  can  be  mentioned  now. 

"  Who  is  it.'"  repeated  Sibyl 

"  I  don't  know  I" 

•■  Why,  rhyme  with  ■  quibble  '  and  you'll  see." 

"  Such  a  hard  name  to  rhyme  to  !"  ' 

"  Go  through  the  alphabet."  f 

Augustus  began  with  "  bibble,"  then  "  cibbie,"  which 
unfortunately  he  pronounced  with  a  hard  "  c,"  and  so  orf 
till  he  reached  the  letter  "  s."  He  was  going  so  fast  bf 
this  time,  however,  that  he  passed  over  -  Sibyl  "  with  thi 
rest.  Then  he  gave  it  up,  saying  that  the  only  rhyme  Pb 
could  thinl<  of  was  "  dibble,"  which  couldn't  be  correct, 
it  wasn't  police  ! 

Sibyl  at  her  wits'  end  repeated  the  verse,  and  at  £st 
Augustus  tumbled. 

It  would  be  nice  as  well  as  customary  to  concIuOB  in 
ihe  usual  way  by  saying   they  lived  happily  ever  after 

ward.     Unfortunately  some  verses  in   Sibyl's  diary the 

last  of  her  oracular  efforts — written  a  year  after  her  mar- 
riage, go  to  prove  the  contrary.     Here  they  are:      »' 

'■  'Tis  best  to  leave  oracles  strictly  alone,  / 

Although  you're  a  bit  of  a  poet,  f 

Or  the  rest  of  your  life  you'll  sadly  atone,         I 

I  made  the  mistake — and  I  know  it  !  ' 

Don't  think  yourself  wise,  don't  lianker  for  jsjaaey, 

Though  the  man  has  blue  blood  in  his  ve^  ; 
The  prospect  may  look  exceedingly  sunny,  j 

But  beware  !— if  he  hasn't  got  brains  ! 
And  don't  be  romantic— you'll  probably  find 

There's  nothing  at  all  in  a  name  ; 
So  don't  wed  a  man  ere  you  know  your  own  mind. 

Or  you'll  have  only  yourself  to  Uame  i" 


An   Old   Salt's   Observations 


li/E  shouldn't  never  refrain  from  eatin'  beefsteak  for  fear 
"      th'  cow  it  was  cut  from  hadn't  lived  a  moral  life. 

I  laughed  at  a  passenger  on  my  ship  real  ag^ravatin' 
once  because  he  didn't  know  what  th'  main  to'Jallant  s'l 
was.  After  we  landed  he  took  me  drivin"  in  th'  park  to 
Boston.  Soon  he  stopped  an'  climbed  out  of  th'  buggj'. 
"  I've  got  to  fix  the  sir- 
single  on  th'  off  horse," 
says  he.  If  I  hadn't  kept 
my  mouth  shut  he'd  'a'  had 
that  laugh  back  on  me. 

The  Hindus  never 
would  have  started  vege- 
tarianism as  a  part  of  their 
religion  if  they  hadn't  lived 
in  a  hot  climate,  or  if  they 
hadn't  lived  somewhere 
where  meat  was  hard  to 
git.  Yet  lots  of  silly  Amer- 
icans admire  'em  an'  talk 
about  their  devotion  to 
their  faith.  I  wonder  why 
th'  same  folks  don't  sing 
hymns  of  praise  about  th' 
Esquimaux  because  they 
don't  eat  oranges. 

Ain't  we  queer  ?  My 
wife  makes  all  her  own 
clo'es  an'  ain't  a  bit  vain  ; 
but  once,  when  I  took  her 
to  Paris,  she  spent  most 
of  her  one  life's  visit  there 
in  lookin'  in  at  th'  dress- 
makers'windows.  I  hain't 
never  made  any  of  my  own 
clo'es,  an'  yet  I  can't  re- 
member that  I  ever  once 
so  much  as  stopped  to 
look  into  a  tailor's  window 
or  wasted  ten  seconds  in 
front  of  a  ready-made  clo- 
thin'-shop. 

I  had  a  man  in  my 
crew  who  could  make  all 
kinds  of  sailor's  fancy 
knots.  A  clergyman  sailed 
with  me,  one  trip,  an' 
watched  him,  interested. 
By  an"  by  he  says  to  me, 
"That's  a  mighty  ingen- 
ious knot,"  he  says  ;  •■  but 
it  ain't  so  important  to  th* 

race  as  th'  ones  I  tie,"  he  says.  "  Th'  matrimonial  knots, 
1  mean,"  he  savs.  "  No,"  says  th'  sailor,  who  had  been 
a-listenin';  "  but  I  can  untie  mine  without  breakin'  no 
hearts." 

You  know  about  icebergs  ?     Th'  biggest  part  of  'em  is 
under  water.     When  thev  strike  a  warm  current  the  water 


melts  that  away,  an'  th'  first  thing  th'  iceberg  knows  is 
that  it  tips  over  an"  goes  smash.  It's  jest  th'  same  about 
a  man's  dignified  resentment  an'  a  woman's  tears.  As 
long  as  she  lets  it  float  in  a  cold  current  of  her  own 
anger  it  towers  up,  defiant  like  ;  but  let  her  cry  a  little  bit 
an'  down  it  comes.     I  know — I've   had  it  worked  on  me. 

There's  many  thing 
of  difTrent  kinds  that  us 
poor  critters  here  below 
has  reason  to  be  grate- 
ful for.  I  knowed  a  man 
who  had  such  bow-legs 
that  the  landscape,  viewed 
between  'em,  seemed  jest 
incidental  like — as  if,  as  it 
were,  we  was  a-lookin'  at 
it  in  parenthesis.  He  sailed 
on  my  ship.  We  was 
tied  up  near  a  quarry — 
goin'  to  take  on  a  cargo  of 
cut  stone,  you  know. 
They  let  off  a  blast.  Big 
rocks  hit  my  ship.  The 
bow-legged  man  was  on 
•board  in  charge.'  When 
I  got  aboard  I  found  him 
kneelin'  on  the  deck, 
pounn'  out  his  thanks  to 
God.  "What's  th'  mat- 
ter ?"  I  asked  him.  "  Th" 
Lord  be  praised!"  he 
says,  "  for  givin'  me  bow- 
legs," he  says.  "  If  they 
hadn't  been  made  like  a 
ring,"  he  says,  "  that  rock 
would  'a'  hit  'em  an'  broke 
'em  both,"  he  says.  "  As 
it  was,  it  jest  went  through 
between  'em  !"  he  says. 

EDWARD  MARSHALL. 


Felt  Herself  Buncoed. 

J/r J.  Co  b  zu  i gg  er  — 
"  Why  won't  you  go  to 
that  French  restaurant 
again  ?" 

Mrs.  Parvenue — "  Be- 
c.iuse  I  paid  a  big  price 
for  a  dish  with  a  fancy 
name  and  it  turned  out  to 
be  only  a  kidney  stew." 


IN   OUR   MODERN   FLATS. 

Mrs.  Flatte-Hunter — "  Mr.  Dauber,  why  have  you  put  your 
furniture  up  in  th:<t  fashion?" 

Mr.  D.wber — ■'  Well,  you  see,  I  have  more  room  above  the  floor 
than  I  have  on  it ;  so  when  I  want  to  use  the  furniture  I  just  let  it  down." 


A  Sharp  Trade. 

AN  Irishman  was  told  by  a  teacher  that  his  charge  for 
^^  tuition  wrs  two  guineas  the  first  month  and  one 
guinea  the  second.  •'  Then,  be  jabers,"  said  Pat,  "  I'll 
begin  the  second  month  now,  I  will." 

Beatrice  SpERfiECBi 


a 
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s- 


ba 


o     t: 

S     l'    3 

W    i^— ■ 

I,  ^ 

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be 


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O  5 


Her  Opinion   of  Him 

By  T.   E.  McGrath 


D 


F  THERE  is  anything  exasperating  in  this  life,  it 
is  the  lawyer  who  delights  to  bullyrag  and  other- 
wise despitefully  use  a  witness,  more  particu- 
larly when  that  witness  is  a  woman.  It  is  on  this 
account  that  there  is  a  general  rejoicing  when  that  kind 
of  an  attorney  is  srnitten  hip  and  thigh  by  one  of  his  sup- 
posedly helpless  female  victims.  Of  such  is  the  following 
tale: 

The  woman  was  on  the  stand,  and  she  was  a  very  nice- 
mannered,  respectable  woman,  who  kept  a  cheap  boarding- 
house,  and  it  was  the  desire  of  one  of  her  guests  to  be 
dishonest  that  had  brought  her  to  the  court  to  make  him 
pay  his  board. 

"  How  old  did  you  say  you  were,  madam  ?"  inquired 
the  lawyer,  with  no  reason  on  earth,  for  the  elderly  land- 
lady is  no  more  anxious  to  lose  a  board-bill  than  a  young 
one. 

"  I  did  not  say,  sir,"  she  responded,  flushing  to  the 
roots  of  her  hair. 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  say,  madam  ?" 

"  It's  none  of  your  business  !" 

"  Objection  sustained,"  smiled  the  court. 

"  Um  !"  said  the  lawyer,  rubbing  his  cliin.  "  How 
much  did  you  say  the  amount  was  the  defendant  owed 
you  ?" 

"  Twenty-five  dollars." 

"  And  how  long  was  that  ?" 

"  Five  weeks." 

"  That's'five  dollars  a  week,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 


"  Five  weeks  at  five  dollars  a  week  is  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, I  beUeve  you  said  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  witness  was  patient,  but  her  temper  was  not  im- 
proved under  the  strain. 

"  Isn't  that  an  extravagant  price  to  pay  for  board  in 
that  locality,  madam  ?"  inquired  the  attorney  severely. 

"  He  didn't  pay  it,  sir,"  answered  the  worm,  begin- 
ning to  turn. 

The  lawyer  gave  a  little  start  of  surprise,  then  became 
indignant  at  the  very  thought  of  a  witness  talking  like 
that. 

"  Don't  be  facetious  on  the  witness  stand,  madam,"  he 
said,  assuming  a  tone  of  warning.  •'  This  is  a  serious  mat- 
ter, madam.  I  have  asked  if  your  prices  were  not  exorbi- 
tant, and  you  have  seen  fit  to  answer  lightly,  madam. 
Now,  madam,  I  ask  you  in  all  earnestness  if  you  mean  to 
tell  this  court  that  your  prices  are  moderate,  and  that  if  I 
should  come  to  your  house  to  board  you  would  charge 
me  five  dollars  a  week  ?  Answer  directly,  madam,"  and 
the  attorney  sat  back  in  his  chair  and  assumed  an  im- 
perial manner. 

The  witness  w'as  not  at  all  abashed. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  said  simply.     "  I  would  " 

"  I  thought  not,  I  thought  not,"  interrupted  the  attor- 
ney, bending  over  and  rubbing  his  hands. 

"  No,  sir,"  continued  the  witness  ;  "  I  would  not  charge 
you  at  all.     I  would  make  you  pay  in  advance." 

Then  the  court  forgot  its  dignity,  and  everybody 
laughed  except  the  attorney. 


NOTHING   FOR    THEM   IN   THE   EATING  LINE. 

Moth-eaten  Muggins — "  Dat's  a  valuable  dog,  thougli,  Victor." 

Verdigris  Vict(ir  —  •■  Ves.     It  gives  me  a  pain  ter  see  how  some  folks  leaves  deir  valuables  lyin'  around  loose.' 


A    HARDER   MATTER. 
Miss  Strongm^'nd  [who  has  bct-n  struck  for  a  ttukfl) — "  Well,  you  're  a  fine  specimen  of  a  man  1" 
WOKN  Willie — "  T'anks,  awfully  ;  I  couldn't  so  readily  classify  ro«." 

Fowl  Fable. 

THERE  was  once  an  humble  hen,  who  hatched  out,  by 
mistake,  a  llock  of  owls. 

Of  course,  so  soon  as  the  owls  were  big  enough  to 
make  their  debuts  they  began  staying  out  until  all  hours 
of  the  night  and  mingling  in  the  giddy  whirl  of  society. 

To  this,  however,  Mamma  Hen  objected,  saying 
that  she  had  not  been  brought  up  in  such  a  way, 
and  she  did  not  believe  that  it  was  proper  for  her 
children  to  go  gallivanting  around. 

At  this  the  owl-chickens  conferred  among  them- 
selves, saying, 

"  Poor  mamma  !  With  her  antecedents  it  natu- 
rally is  hard  for  her  to  know  who  's  wlioo." 

Moral — Sometimes  it  is  difficult  for  the  parents  to 
enter  society. 

Easy  Lesson  in  Politics. 

((  rjOOD-EVENING.  Mr.  Buttin,"  said  Gladys,  ris- 
ing  to  greet  the  caller.  "  Mr,  Honey  and  I 
were  just  discussing  politics  when  you  arrived.  We 
have  been  arguing  about  the  difference  between  a 
majority  and  a  plurality." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Buttin,  with  a  p-itronizing 
glance  at  Mr.  Honey,  "  it  is  easily  understood.  A 
majority  is  a  preponderance  of  favor  between  two 
parties,  while  a  plurality  is  an  excess  over  all." 

"Ah,  yes,"  sighed  Miss  Gladys.  "It  is  just 
like  the  old  saying  that  '  two  is  company  and  three 
is  a  crowd,'  isn't  it  ?" 

And  the  meaning  look  that  passed  between 
Gladys  and  Mr.  Honey  convinced  Mr.  Buttin  that  he 
had  been  counted  out. 

Reason  for  His  Haste. 

McCloskey — "  Phat  is  yure  hoorry,  Moike  ?" 

McGowan  (on  the  sprinkling-cart) — "  Shure,  it's 
goin'  to  rain,  Pat,  an"  it';  me  thot  wants  to  git  me 
wur-rk  done  betoor  it  comes." 


Notable. 

CUDDENLY  the  bands 
in  the  great  coaven- 
tion-hall  struck  up  a  ring 
ing  air,  which  was  echoed 
by  the  bands  stationed  on 
the  streets  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  great  doors 
of  the  hall  were  thrown 
open  and,  preceded  by  a 
guard  of  honor  and  two  or 
three  bands,  and  followed 
by  another  guard  of  honor 
and  four  or  five  bands,  a 
small  man,  trying  hard  not 
to  wear  a  self-conscious 
look,  was  escorted  to  the 
rostrum.  After  the  cheer- 
ing had  subsided  the  chair- 
man rose  and  said, 

"Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, it  is  unnecessary  for 
me  to  say  that  we  are  about  to  have  the  pleasure  of  listen- 
ing to  a  few  remarks  from  the  Honorable  Gabe  Izzent.of 
Hackasack,  Florida,  the  only  man  in  the  United  States 
who  has  never  had  a  vice-presidential  boom." 

'MoNG  those  inclined  to  thanksgiving  the  editor  highly  ranks  ; 
He  thanks  when  he  is  receiving  and  always  declines  with  thanks. 


HIS   COSTUME. 
Edith — "  That  is  my  first  male  ancestor." 
Percy — "  Ah,  taken  in  masquerade  costume,  X  see.'' 


Bill's    Derby    Winner 


By    Norman    H.    Crowell 


,ENJAMIN  GREEN  had  re- 
sumed his  pipe  after  relating 
the  bitter  details  of  his  first 
and  last  experience  at  betting 
on  a  horse-race. 

"  Puffball  was  a  good  car- 
length  ahead,"  Benjamin  had 
remarked,  with  traces  of  sad- 
ness, "  an'  goin'as  smooth  as 
a  new  sewin'  -  machine.  I 
was  swellin'  up  an'  seein' 
myself  rakin'  in  that  fifty- 
dollar  stake  when  all  to  once 
an'  onexpected,  Puffball 
stepped  on  a  tomato  can  an' 
lit  on  her  chin.  Afore  she 
could  git  up  Grabbag  had 
passed  her  an'  won  th'  race !" 

•It  was  a  painful  rehearsal  and  Mr.  Green  had  profited 
by  it,  inasmuch  as  it  marked  the  turning-point  in  his 
career  of  recklessness.  Never  again  had  he  put  faith  in 
the  frailties  of  horseflesh. 

Uncle  Ezra  Boggs,  who  had  been  an  interested  listener, 
idly  interlaced  his  fingers  and  twirled  his  thumbs  in  an 
absorbed  manner. 

"  I  was  jest  thinkin',"  he  remarked  after  a  moment, 
"  o'  Bill  Fikes's  trotter.  Maybe  you  didn't  know  that 
Bill  had  th'  racin'  fever  at  one  time.  Well,  he  did — 
him  an'  me  had  it  about  th'  same  time.  I  don't  recall  jest 
where  Bill  got  th'  boss,  but  my  opinion  is  he  got  it  in  an 
unsight-an'-unseen  deal  somewheres.  That  boss  had  th' 
biggest  feet  I  ever  see  on  anything  short  of  an  elephant. 
His  legs  was  a  good  deal  longer  than  his  lineage  an'  he 
wore  hoofs  onto  'em  that  reminded  me  of  a  store  spittoon. 
"Bill  said  they  called  th'  boss  Dustless,  because  he 
liked  mud  so  well.  Take  that  there  animal  on  a  nice, 
shiny  day,  put  'im  on  a  hard,  dry  track  that'd  make  an 
ordinary  boss's  mouth  water  jest  to  look  at,  an'  all  th' 
shoutin'  an'  band-playin'  you  could  pack  into  a  ten-acre 
lot  couldn't  make  Dustless  move  faster  than  a  four- 
minute  gait.  He  'peared  to  try  all  right  an'  would  lather 
up  furious,  but  after  every  heat  he  went  into  it  took  the 
track  officials  about  a  minute  keepin'  th'  track  clear  for 
Bill's  boss  to  finish. 

"  After  Bill  had  tried  th'  boss  on  several  such  days, 
he  come  to  th'  conclusion  that  if  there  was  any  speed 


lurkin'  inside  o'  Dustless  it  took  somethin'  more  than 
good  roads  an'  sunshine  to  draw  it  out.  I'd  'a'  took  a 
club,  but  Bill  was  one  of  these  kind-hearted  humans,  an' 
he'd  sooner  feed  th'  brute  a  dollar's  worth  of  loaf  sugar 
to  get  out  o'  'im  th'  same  amount  of  usefulness  me  or 
you'd  get  out  o'  'im  with  one  good  belt  of  a  fence  picket. 

"  One  day  I  suggests  to  Bill  that,  seein'  as  Dustless 
has  no  use  for  fine  weather  or  tracks,  maybe  we'd  better 
try  'im  on  mud. 

"'By  ginger!'  says  Bill;  'maybe  we  had!  Never 
thought  of  that!' 

"  Th'  next  time  it  rained  me'n  Bill  slung  th'  harness 
onto  Dustless,  tied  th'  sulky  to  'im,  an'  Bill  tucked  th' 
critter's  tail  under  'im  an'  set  down  onto  it.  Then  he 
cantered  th'  boss  out  onto  th'  mile  track,  which  wa'n't 
bein'  used  much  that  year.  I  begun  to  notice  th'  boss's 
ears  stickin'  up,  an'  calls  Bill's  attention. 

"'You  bet!'  he  says.  'He's  pullin'  two  hundred 
pounds  on  each  line!' 

"Bill  scored  up  to  th'  startin '-point  once  for  prac- 
tice, an'  Dustless  purty  nigh  tipped  'im  over  afore  he'd 
swing  around  to  come  back.  Th'  track  was  gluey  an'  th' 
boss's  feet  pulled  up  a  piece  about  th'  size  of  a  boiler 
bottom  at  every  step,  but  he  'peared  to  be  enjoyin'  it 
immense. 

"  '  We're  off  this  time !'  yells  Bill.  '  Set  th'  clock  on 
us!' 

' '  It  was  jest  twenty  minutes  past  two  when  they 
went  under  th'  wire,  an'  to  be  absolutely  exact  I  wrote 
it  down  on  a  shingle.  Then  I  took  a  look  at  Bill  an'  th' 
boss.  All  I  could  see  was  a  sort  of  mud-cloud  circlin'  th' 
track  an'  goin'  at  a  clip  that  I  see  to  once  would  strain 
th'  record  bad,  if  not  actually  break  it.  I  never  see  a 
boss  keep  so  much  mud  in  th'  air  at  one  time,  an'  comin' 
down  th'  stretch  on  th'  first  mile  they  looked  so  near  like 
a  tornado  it  made  me  feel  nervous.  After  they'd  passed 
mud  dropped  around  for  half  a  minute. 

"  I  was  expectin'  to  see  Dustless  slow  down  on  the 
next  mile,  but  that  animal  must  'a'  had  lungs  made  o' 
leather.  He  went  a  heap  faster.  He  kept  increasin' 
speed  right  up  till  he  went  under  th'  wire,  an'  I  ketched 
th'  time  at  twenty-two  minutes  an'  a  half  past  two. 
That  was  purty  middlin'  fair  work,  but  Bill  swore  he'd 
lost  thirty  seconds  by  pullin'  th'  boss  onto  a  dry  streak 
over  on  th'  backstretch. 

"'Blame  my  luck!' says  Bill.     '  If  I'd  'a'  kept  'im 


A  JOYOUS  DEVELOPIVIENT  OF  THE  WATERMELON  SEASON. 


WHY  HE'S  WORRIED. 
"  Si  Hoskins  seems  worried  ever  since  his  daughter  eloped.* 
"  Yes.     He's  afraid  she'll  come  back  and  bring  her  husband  with  her." 


wadin'  mud,   we'd   'a'  beat   two  minutes  easy.      That 
smooth  stretch  held  'im  back  amazin' !' 

"  Well,  we  got  so  fond  of  Dustless  as  a  mud  hoss  that 
we  entered  'im  in  th'  Jayville  Derby.  Bill  got  an  agree- 
ment with  th'  manager  that  he  could  pull  down  his  entry 
if  it  didn't  rain.  There  was  a  lot  o'  good  bosses  in  that 
Derby,  half  a  dozen  of  'em  havin'  been  suspected  o' 
beatin'  two-twenty  on  th'  farm  under  prime  conditions. 

"  Me'n  Bill  began  prayin' for  rain,  but,  would  you 
believe  it,  Derby  day  opened  up  dry,  hot  and  dustier  than 
a  lamb's  back.  Bill  nearly  cried  when  he  started  over 
to  th'  manager  to  pull  down  his  entry.  Th'  manager 
was  lookin'  purty  glum  when  Bill  got  there. 

"  '  Look  'ere,  Bill,'  says  he;  '  I'm  up  agin  it.  There's 
been  a  train  wreck  west 
o'  here,  an'  more'n  half  1 
o'  them  Derby  entries 
won't  get  here.  There's 
only  three  bosses  besides 
yours  that  will  be  on 
hand,  an'  two  of  them 
is  regular  skates.  We've 
jest  got  to  hold  your  en- 
try— it's  a  necessity  !' 

"'Yes,     but' 

says  Bill,  lookin'  at  th' 
sky  sort  o'  dubious. 

"'It's  an  even 
chance,  Bill,'  says  th' 
manager. 

"  '  What !  Without 
MUD?' says  Bill,  in  dis- 
gust. 

"  '  Mud  or  no  mud, 
you're  fined  five  hundred 
dollars  if  you  fail  to  ap- 
pear!' 


"  Poor  Bill  was  feelin'  mighty  bad 
when  he  come  back.  Defeat  was  lookin' 
'im  right  in  th'  eye.  j 

"  Jest  then  I  had  an  idea — a  great 
idea.  I  jumps  up  an'  slung  both  arms 
around  Bill. 

"  '  I  know  somethin'  that'll  beat  mud. 
Bill — somethin'  that  mud  can't  aspire  to 
nohow !' 

"'What?'  says  Bill. 
"'TAR!' I  yells.     'Coal-tar!' 
"  Bill    thought    a    minute — then    he 
gp-inned. 

"  '  Sure!'  he  says,  happy  as  a  boy. 
"  At  noon,  when  nobody  was  lookin', 
me'n  Bill  spread  four  barrels  of  fresh 
tar  over  th'  back  stretch  of  th'  Jayville 
half-mile  track.  We  put  it  on  good  an' 
thick,  like  a  poultice,  an'  th'  hot  sun 
made  it  spread  like  th'  top  layer  of  a 
chocolate  cake. 

"'Now!'  says  Bill,  when  we'd  got 
done, '  let  'em  come !  If  that  ain't  th'  best 
imitation  o'  mud  ever  made  by  a  human, 
then  I  ain't  your  old  pard.  Bill  Fikes!' 
"  There  was  about  ten  thousand  out  to  th'  Derby. 
When  they  see  Bill's  ol'  Big-foot  scorin'  up  alongside  o' 
Colonel  Carter's  Kentucky  trotter,  they  drawed  deep 
breaths  an'  whooped  to  beat  th'  brass  band.  Th'  idea  o' 
Bill  expectin'  to  win  agin  that  animal  o'  th'  colonel's 
was  a  little  too  ludicrous  for  them  Jayville  yaps,  an' 
they  haw-hawed  some  loud  an'  incredulous.  But  Bill 
never  cracked  a  smile,  jest  gritted  his  back  teeth  an' 
talked  kind  an'  lovin'  to  Dustless,  who  was  Icokin'  at  th' 
nice,  dry  track  like  he'd  heard  terrible  bad  news  from 
home. 

"  On  th'  second  score-up  they  got  away,  an'  th' 
colonel  waved  his  hat  back  to  Bill  as  he  took  th'  lead  an' 
begun  walkin'  off  like  he  was  anxious  to  forget  'im.     He 


HER  TIN  'WEDDING. 

"  I'm  going  to  Maudie's  tin  wedding  to-night." 

"  Been  married  ten  years,  has  she  ?" 

"  No;  she's  to  be  married  to  het  tenth  husband. " 


gained  fine  till  he  hit  th'  backstretch,  then  Bill  seemed 
to  overhaul  on  'im  wonderful.  Everybody  stood  up  an' 
yelled  when  they  see  Bill  close  up  th'  gap  an'  sprint 
right  past  th'  colonel  like  he  was  tied  to  a  brick  buildin' ! 
Behind  th'  sulkies  big  slabs  o'  th'  track,  like  strips  o' 
carpet,  was  risin'  an'  fallin'  all  around  Bill  an'  th' 
colonel. 

"  When  they'd  cleared  th'  tar  Bill  was  a  hundred 
yards  to  th'  good  an'  th'  colonel  was  plyin'  th'  gad  like 
a  man  nailin'  on  lath.  I  could  see  th'  old  feller  had 
tumbled  to  th'  layout  an'  was  mad  clean  through. 

"  Goin'  under  th'  wire,  th'  colonel  was  only  a  rod 
behind  an'  swearin'  somethin'  to  surprise  you.  Th' 
other  two  hadn't  got  in  sight  around  th'  curve  yet — one 
of  'em  bein'  mired  to  a  standstill  over  on  th'  far  edge  o' 
th'  tar  where  we'd  spilled  half  a  barrel  by  accident. 

"Talk  about  noise — SAY!  That  crowd  started  in 
cheerin'  for  Bill,  an'  it  sounded  mighty  good,  I  tell  you! 
When  they  struck  th'  tar  th'  next  time  Bill  had  only  two 
rods  to  gain,  an'  th'  way  Dustless  chawed  up  distance  on 
that  backstretch  was  amazin' — she  fairly  flew! 

"  Th'  colonel  was  standin'  up  on  th'  shafts,  poundin' 
his  hoss,  an'  Bill  w-as  leanin'  so  far  over  Dustless  that  I 
couldn't  see  'im.  Into  th'  homestretch  they  come,  with 
Bill  jest  two  hundred  feet  ahead  an'  failin'  fast.  Th' 
colonel  was  comin'  up  behind  like  a  Kansas  cyclone  set- 
tin'  a  record.  On  they  come — two  clouds  o'  dust — get- 
tin'  closer  together  at  every  jump.  Th'  colonel's  hoss 
was  workin'  steady  as  a  clock,  while  Bill  was  beggin' 
Dustless  to  evaporate  in  all  th' endearin' languagt  he 
knew  of. 


VAUD£V)1,A£ 

CKILbREK   li    I»|»«;e.  , 


J 


HIS  DILEMMA. 
'  On,  Tommy !  you're  loo  old  to  cry." 
'  Yes ;  an'  I'm  too  y-y-young  let  have  wot  I'm  cryin'  fer." 


A  LOGICAL  REQUEST. 
"  Please,  mister,  if  it's  half  price  fer  me,  couldn't  yet  let  Johnny 
in  fer  quarter  price  ?" 

"A  hundred  feet  from  th'  wire  th'  colonel  was  close 
enough  to  call  Bill  a  bow-legged,  lyin'  hoss-thief,  an'  we 
see  it  was  goin'  to  be  mighty  close.  At  fifty  feet  th' 
colonel's  nag  had  'is  nose  right  up  agin  Dustless's  eyelid. 
At  twenty  feet  he  was  a  scant  inch  behind — then  a  half- 
inch — then  a  weak  quarter — an'  then,  jest  as  they  were 
a  foot  from  th'  decidin'  line.  Bill's  hoss  run  'is  tongue 
out  about  eight  inches  an'  won  hands  down! 

"  It  was  th'  greatest  race  ever  run  in  Catterwaugus 
County,  an' — eh?  Well,  yes,  Sam,  seein's  it's  you! 
Thankee!" 

Works  Both  Ways. 

MVETHAT  is  that  you  are  taking?"  asked  the  wife. 

"  Quinine  and  whiskey  for  my  cold,"  replied 
the  husband. 

"Do  you  take  the  whiskey  to  hide  the  quinine?" 

"Yes;  that's  just  it. " 

"  But  you  always  say  you  dislike  the  taste  of 
whiskey." 

"  So  I  do.  I  take  the  quinine  to  disguise  the  taste 
of  the  whiskey — don't  you  see?" 

The  Editorial  Innards. 

66  ¥JOW  can  you  exist  upon  one  meal  a  day 

**     And  yet  make  such  wonderful  strides?" 
The  editor  smiled  so  ineffably  mild — . 
"  Oh,  you  know,  I've  got  patent  insides. " 


SECOND    NATURE. 
An  irresistible  movement  of  hands  on  reading  the  poster. 

Spoiled  His  Story, 

il  C'R,  "  says   the   dignified    stranger,   walking    into   the 
office  of  the  chief  of  police  of  Chicago  during  con- 
vention   week,  "  I   have   a  complaint   to   register   against 
your  men." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  politely  asks  the  chief. 

"  They  are  too  officious.  Before  coming  here  I  had 
heard  a  great  deal  about  the  dangers  of  life  in  this  city, 
but  whenever  two  foot- 
pads try  to  hold  me  up 
an  officer  steps  from  the 
shadows  and  arrests 
them.  When  a  pickpocket 
gets  his  hands  on  my 
watch  an  officer  nabs  him; 
whsn  a  restaurant  man 
overcharges  me,  or  a  cab- 
man tries  to  skin  me,  an 
officer  is  on  the  scene  and 
readily  adjusts  matters. 
And  so  it  goes." 

"  Well,  I  certainly  can't 
see  where  you  have  any 
complaint,"  said  the  chief 

"  Can't  ?  Why,  how  thv 
dickens  am  I  going  to  put 
any  tinge  of  interest  and 
excitement  in  the  story  of 
my  visit  to  Chicago  if  this 
thing  keeps  up  ?  " 


Graft. 

WHEN  Jason  sneaked  to  the  Hesperides 
And  neatly  pinched,  one  night,   the  Golden  Fleece, 
'Twas  happily  not  known  to  the  police, 
Or  they  would  promptly  cry.  •'  Our  divvy,  please!" 
To  captains  sailing  oriental  seas 

The  pregnant  word  "  backsheesk,"  was  just  a  peice 
Of  native  wit,  that  caused  their  wies  to  cease 
And  landed  were  the  priceless  argosies. 
"  How  moves  the  world?"  you  ask.     Well,  just  the  same 
As  it  revolved  a  thousand  years  ago. 

The  common  people,  still  raked  ft)re  and  aft, 
Submit  without  a  murmur  to  the  game. 

'Tis  called  finesse,  diplomacy,  we  know — 
But  in  its  brazen  nakedness  'tis  graft. 

EUGENE  GEARY. 

A  Sure  Method. 

({  I  OOK  here  !"  shouted  the  practical  politician,  bursting 

"  into  the  headquarters  ol  the  boss.  "  We  must  have 
that  new  district-attorney  kicked  right  out." 

"  What  has  he  been  doing  ?"  inquired  the  man  of  ex- 
perience suavely. 

'■  He's  been  doing  everything  and  everybody.  W'hy, 
he  has  even  been  enforcing  the  laws." 

"That's  pretty  bad,"  said  the  boss.  "What  dc  you 
propose  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"  Do  !"  exclaimed  the  irate  worker.  "  1  propose  to 
have  charges  made  against  him  and  have  him  broke." 

"  My  son,"  said  the  boss,  "  you  are  only  a  beginner.  By 
doing  that  you'd  only  place  him  in  a  position  to  have  him- 
self vindicated,  and  he  would  be  a  constant  menace  to  us.'' 

"  But  something  has  got  to  be  done." 

"  Quite  true,  and  I'm  going  to  do  it." 

"Going  to  have  him  sandbagged  ?" 

"Worse  and  worse!  I'm  going  to  have  him  nomi- 
nated for  a  judgeship,  or  even  for  governor." 

"  What's  that  ?" 

"  I  guess  you  heard  me  right.  I'm  going  to  promote 
him,  for  that's  the  latest  thing  in  practical  politics.  We 
who  have  experience  find  it  much  easier  to  push  a  man 
off  the  roof  than  to  kick  him 
out  of  the  basement  door,  and 
it  settles  him  much  more  effect- 
ively." 


STICKY   FLY-PAPER. 
What  little  Willie  Fly  would  like  to  do  if  he  was  a  king. 


The   Last  Straw 

By  Strickland  W.  Gillilan 


LAS,  it  Is  often  but  a  little 
thing  indeed  that  brings 
about  the  actual  disloca- 
tion of  the  dromedary's 
vertebrae ! 

For  instance : 
We  found  a  man  who 
had  just  ordered  his  only 
son  to  return  from  the 
university  and  begin  to 
hew  his  own  way  through 
this  somewhat  flinty  and 
cross-grained  worm. 

"Why  did  you  do 
this?"  we  asked,  feeling 
that  he  had  behaved  rather 
inhumanly  in  the  matter 
aside  from  whatever 
might  be  the  cold-blooded 
justice  of  the  act. 

"Well,"  he  explained 
with  some   heat,  "I  had 

been  hearing  time  and  again  of  this  boy's  pranks.     At  last 

he  became  involved  in  an  escapade  even  more  annoying 

than  anything  he  had  previously 

become  mixed  up  in.    I  wrote  him 

and   demanded    an    explanation, 

which  he  gave,   but  which  was 

not  altogether  satisfactory. 

However,  as  there  seemed  an  ele- 
ment of  reasonable  doubt  in  the 

case,  and  as  the  poor  lad's  mother 

pleaded  his  cause  so  stoutly,  I 

at  last  let  justice  lean   toward 

mercy   and  determined   to  give 

once  more   my  blessing  and  bid 

him  try  again. 

"  The  day  I  sat  down  to  write 

him  the  letter  of  forgiveness  had 

been    a  most   exasperating  one. 

To  begin  with,  I  had  lain  awake 

all  the  night  long,    listening  to 

my  wife's  tearful  protests  that  I 

forgive  the  boy  once  again ;  our 

cook   had    left   in  the    morning, 

without  warning,  and  my  break- 
fast had  been  gotten  by  my  own 

two  bungling  hands;   a  letter  in 

the  morning   mail   had    told   me 

of  the  rejection  of  my  company's 

bid  for  a  large  job  of  work  we 

had  counted  upon,  the  contract 

going  to  our  most  hated  rival ; 

the  office-boy  had  sent  word  that 

he  was  ill,  and  the  substitute  he 

sent   didn't    even    suspect    any- 


thing regarding  his  duties;  I  had  a  raging  headache. 
But  even  all  these  things  I  withstood,  and  I  set  myself 
painfully  but  determinedly  to  the  task  of  writing  a 
beautiful  letter  of  forgiveness.  When  the  letter  was 
finished  I  believed  I  had  written  a  masterpiece  of  its 
kind.  I  had  written  it  out  in  long  hand,  a  thing  very 
laborious  and  unaccustomed  to  me,  the  affair  being  too 
sacred,  I  felt,  to  intrust  to  the  profane  hands  of  a  ste- 
nographer. And  when  " — here  the  man  choked  with  emo- 
tion, and  we  waited  for  him  to  go  on — "  and  when  all 
this  was  done,  my  pride  humbled  and  my  arm,  as  well  as 
my  head,  aching,  I  picked  up  a  blotter  and  laid  it  tri- 
umphantly upon  the  freshly-inked  page.  It  was  one  of 
those  blotters  with  one  varnished  side  to  it,  and  I  had 
applied  the  glossy  side  to  the  ink.  Well,  I  tore  up  that 
letter,  stamped  frenziedly  upon  it,  and  telegraphed  the 
boy  to  come  home  and  go  to  work." 

We  went  out  softly,  feeling  that  we  had  intruded  upon 
one  who  had  suffered  the  crowning  disappointment  a 
human  soul  may  feel. 


/'^NE  who  seldom  laughs  is  prima  facie  a  fool  in  a 
^^  world  in  which  there  are  so  many  absurdities  to 
laugh  at. 


THE  WAY  OF   DUST. 
She — "  Do  you  believe  that  man  is  really  made  of  dusl  ?' 
He — "  Well,  he  wouldn't  be  able  to  travel  far  m  your  company  if  he  wasn't." 


A  Snake  Story. 

A    HUNGRY  blacksnake,  snooping  'round 
■^^     A  hen-house  for  what  might  be  found 
Of  food  supply,  discovered  there 
An  egg,  which  seemed  his  proper  fare. 
"Ha,  ha!"   he  gurgled,  "this  is  what 
I  long  have  sought  and  found  it  not; 
And  all  the  old  hens  gone  away — 
Well,  sure,  this  is  my  lucky  day." 
Forthwith  he  took  it  to  his  breast 
And  moved  on  to  the  neighb'ring  nest. 
Another  egg  he  found,  and  that 
He  added  to  his  future  fat; 
And  so  on  till  he  swallowed  four, 
Then  quit  for  lack  of  room  for  more. 
Full  to  repletion  now,  he  slid 
Away  to  darkness  to  lie  hid 
Until  digestion  put  his  food 
In  shape  to  do  the  greatest  good. 

What  dreams  he  had,  what  visions  grim 
Of  nightmares  prancing  over  him. 
What  weird  disturbers  of  repose 
Had  fun  with  him,  nobody  knows; 
But  certainly  they  did,  for  when 
In  after  times  the  poultrymen 
Tore   down  that  hennery  they  found 
A  blacksnake's  skeleton  twisted  'round 
Four  china  eggs,  as  smooth  and  fair 
As  when  the  blacksnake  put  them  there. 

WILLIAM  J.  LAMPTON. 


A   Christian  Science   Giver. 

'•fc'V/TRS.  JONES  is  going  to  give  a  window  to 
■'■  ■*■     the  Christian  Science  church. " 
"  Stained  glass,  I  suppose  ?  " 
"No;  paneless." 

Radium    Stuffing. 

Wilfred — "Pa,  what  are  the  birds  on  mamma's 
Easter  bonnet  stuffed  with  ?  " 

Gunbusla — "According  to  the  price,  my  boy,  I 
guess  they're  stuffed  with  radium." 

Slanguistically  Stated. 

The  bookkeeper — "That  new  assistant  of  mine 
is  a  paragon  of  incompetence. " 

The  stenographer — "You  mean  that  he  is  a 
lemon  aid." 

Aphorisnr\s  of  a  Muck-raker. 

'  I  'HAT  man  best  enjoys  his  own  rights  who 
■*■      most  respects  the  rights  of  others. 

"  For  the  good  of  the  party  "  rarely  turns  out 
to  be  for  the  good  of  the  people. 

The  trouble  with  the  average  candidate  is  that 
he  cares  less ,  for  the  nation  than  he  does  for  the 
nomination. 

The  public  ofSce  that  goes  seeking  the  man 
never  has  as  hard  a  chase  as  the  public  man  who 
goes  seeking  the  office. 

The  reticent  politician  who  can  make  a  speech 
but  won't  is  in  many  ways  preferable  to  the  loqua- 
cious politician  who  can't  make  a  speech  but  wUl 

BOY  FARRELL  GREENE. 


Feminine  Wiles. 

Stella — "  I  always  get  to  the  theatre  last,  so  as  to  be 
talked  about." 

Bella — "  And  I  always  get  to  the  club  first,  so  as  not  to 
be  talked  about." 


A  Cruel  Truth. 

T-TERE'S  a  thing  that  isn't  pretty, 
■*■  ■*•     But  it's  true,  as  like  as  not: 
In  the  spring  the  would-be  poet 
Indolently  runs  to  rot. 

A  Humbugging  Advertisement. 

^'•T  SEE  Lacey  advertises  something  cheap  in  dress- 
■*■     goods,  papa." 
"It's    a    humbugging    ad.,    daughter.     I've    known 
many  women  in  my  time,  and  there's  nothing  cheap  in 
dress-goods. " 

That's  S(n)ow! 

"yiS  the  man  behind  the  shovel, 

•*•      Don't  ye  know,  don't  ye  know. 
Who  saves  us  all  the  trouble 
Of  the  snow,  of  the  snow; 
And  we  should  liis  wages  double — 

That  is  so,  that  is  so!  a.  m.  t. 


••'•'V'OUR  name,"  he  stammered,  "is — is  written 

*      on  my  heart." 

"  Yes,"  she  whispered.  "  But — but  wouldn't 
it  be  much  nicer  if  your  name  were  engraved  on 
my  stationery?" 


POLITENESS. 


Pure  Logic 

By  Ellis  Parker  Butler 


PEAKING  of  logic."  said  the  Old  Sea 
Dog,  as  he  gave  the  waist-band  of 
his  trousers  an  extra  hitch,  "  I  never 
thought  nothing  of  logic  until  once 
when  I  run  short  of  coffee.  'Twas 
in  '77  when  me  and  Perfessor 
Bingdat  was  wrecked  on  the  lone- 
some desert  isle  of  Barbecutis  ;  just 
us  two  by  ourselves,  and  for  use 
and  horse-sense,  I  says,  (he  minute 
I  seen  the  perfessor,  that  I  might 
as  well  have  a  three-months-old 
baby  as  the  perfessor.  He  was  no 
good.  All  he  done  was  to  moon 
around  and  logic  out  his  logic,  for 
that  was  his  job  at  home  ;  he  was  a 
perfessor  of  logic.  So  I  done  the 
Robinson  Crusoe  business,  and 
he  wasn't  even  a  decent  excuse  for 
a  man  Friday. 
"So  by  and  by,"  continued  the 
Old  Sea  Dog,  "  we  run  short  of  coffee,  and  I  can  do  with- 
out victuals  and  drink,  but  I  must  have  my  cup  o'  coffee. 
So  I  went  onto  half  rations,  which  made  my  nerves  speak 
up,  and  one  day  I  says,  '  Perfessor,  you  been  giving 
me  talk  by  the  knot  about  logic,'  I  says,  '  but  I'd  give  all 
the  logic  on  top  of  the  earth  for  a  pound  of  good  Rio 
coffee." 

"  Well,  sir,"  the  Old  Sea  Dog  proceeded,  "  that  moony 
old  perfessor  just  looked  at  me  and  laughed.  '  Well, 
mate,'  he  says,  or  words  to  that  effect,  •  if  you  want  coffee, 
why  don't  you  grow  some  ?'  That  made  me  so  mad.  I 
looked  at  him  in  a  sneering  tone  of  voice,  and  I  says, 
'  Grow  some  !  You  long,  thin,  flat,  tall  son  of  a  main- 
mast !  Grow  some  !  How  in  blisters  and  burns  can  I 
grow  some  when  I  ain't  got  no  seed  ?  If  that's  your  logic 
I  don't  want  no  logic' 

"  Bat  my  loggerheads,  tliough,  if  it  made  the  perfessor 
so  much  as  wink  !  He  just  smiled.  '  Ain't  you  got  some 
coffee  left  ?'  he  asks.  '  Coffee  !'  says  I.  '  Yes,  but  its 
roasted  and  ground,  and  nobody  ever  heard  of  coffee 
growing  after  it's  roasted  and  ground.' 

"  But  mizzenmasts  and  portholes  !  The  perfessor  only 
smiled  more  serene.  '  That's  because  folks  don't  go  about 
it  logical,'  he  says.  '  Cc  ffee  agriculturists,'  he  s^iys,  ■  ain't 
a  naturally  logical  kind  of  folks.  Mebby  they  never  tried 
to  plant  roasted  ground  coffee.  And  if  they  did  they 
didn't  go  at  it  logically.  You  got  to  use  logic,'  he  says. 
Then  I  says,  '  If  you  can  logic  any  coffee  to  grow  go  ahead 
and  logic  it  !'     And  warp  my  deck  if  he  didn't !" 

*'  oh,  come  now  !"  exclaimed  the  grizzled  old  coloneU 
shaking  his  head. 

"  Warp  my  deck  if  he  didn't !"  repeated  the  Old  Sea 
Dog  firmly.  ' '  First  he  got  out  my  coffee  canister  and 
took  out  some  of  that  ground  roasted  coffee.     '  Mate,'  he 


says,  •  this  here  island  has  a  red-hot  climate  and  coffee 
ought  to  grow  mighty  quick.  It's  a  moist,  hot  climate, 
like  a  hot-house,  which  is  good  for  quick  growing.  But 
first  off,  if  I  am  going  to  grow  some  logical  coffee,'  he 
says,  'you've  got  to  admit  my  major  premise.' 

"  '  What's  that,  perfessor  ?'  I  asked.  '  What  is  a  prem- 
ise, anyhow  ?' 

"  '  Well,  mate,'  says  he,  '  a  premise  is  what  you've 
got  to  take  for  granted  or  admit  that  it  is  so,  or  you  can't 
get  nowhere  at  all  with  your  logic.  If  we  don't  have  a 
premise  we  can't  grow  no  logical  coffee.' 

"  ■  Go  on,  perfessor,'  I  says.  '  I'll  admit  the  major 
premise,  easy  enough  !  You  go  ahead  and  grow  your 
coffee  !' 

•' '  All  right,  mate,'  says  the  perfessor.  '  Now,  com- 
mon or  garden  coffee-growers  thev  plant  uncooked  coffee 
beans  in  the  soil  and  they  grow,  don't  they?"  'Yes,' 
says  I. 

"  ■  Good  ;■  says  the  perfessor.  '  And  they  plant  them 
whole,  raw  beans  in  the  soil  just  as  the  soil  is,  and 
they  w-ater  them  with  common  water.  That's  logic. 
Well,  our  coffee  beans  is  ground  and  roasted.  So  we've 
got  to  be  logical,  and  we've  got  to  plant  our  coffee  beans 
that  is  ground  and  roasted  in  a  soil  that  is  ground  and 
roasted,  too.     That's  simple  logic  !' 

"  It  looked  so  to  me,"  continued  the  Old  Sea  Dog  ;  "  so 
me  and  the  perfessor  went  to  work  and  got  some  soil — of 
w  liich  there  was  a  plenty — and  we  roasted  that  soil  and  we 
ground  it  up  in  the  coffee-mill,  and  we  sure  did  sweat,  for 
it  was  amazing  hot  on  that  desert  isle  ;  but  we  got  it  done, 
and  we  spread  that  roasted  and  ground-up  soil  out  even 
and  nice,  and  we  planted  the  ground-up  coffee  in  it,  all 
according  to  the  laws  of  logic,  of  which  the  perfessor  was 
perfessor  of." 

"  And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  sir  !"  cried  the  grizzled 
old  colonel,  getting  as  red  in  the  face  as  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun  ;  "do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  stuff  grew  ?" 

"Grew?"  said  the  Old  Sea  Dog,  slapping  his  leg. 
"  Grew  !  I  should  say  it  did  grow  !  We  growed  the 
finest,  biggest  crop  of  coffee  ;  the  best-tasting  coffee  ;  and 
every  bean  was  roasted  and  ground  when  we  picked  it  ! 
Fact  !  Just  roasted  right  and  just  ground  fine  enough  ! 
But  of  course,"  added  the  Old  Sea  Dog  soothingly,  "it 
wouldn't  have  growed  if  we  hadn't  watered  it  logically. 
Oh,  no !  It  wouldn't  have  growed  if  we  hadn't  done 
that." 

The  grizzled  old  colonel  reared  up  on  his  hind  legs,  so 
to  speak,  and  shook  his  mane  in  the  air. 

"  By  the  eternal  fiddlesticks  !"  he  cried  angrily. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  the  Old  Sea  Dog  gently  ;  "  we  watered 
it  logically  out  of  the  coffee-pot,  with  logical  water  " 

The  grizzled  old  colonel  was  blue  at  the  gills  and 
puffing  like  a  turkey-cock,  but  the  Old  Sea  Dog  went  od 
soltly 

"  I   was  going  to  water  it  with  common  water,"  he 


said.  "  I  remember  how  mad  it  made  the  perfessor.  He 
came  and  grabbed  the  coffee-pot  out  of  my  hand,  and  the 
minute  he  had  explained  I  seen  how  near  I  had  come  to 
making  a  mistake.  Common  water  wouldn't  do.  We 
had  to  use  water  that  was  roasted  and  ground  like  the 
coffee." 

The  grizzled  old  colonel  gasped. 

"  So  I  says  to  the  perfessor  that  the  nearest  we  could 
come  to  it  was  to  boil  some  water  and  pour  it  through  the 
coffee-mill,"  said  the  Old  Sea  Dog,  "  but  the  perfessor  said 
that  would  be  faulty  logic  and  wouldn't  do.  He  said 
the  water  must  be  sure  enough  roasted  and  ground,  so 
we  roasted  some  and  ground  it  up" 

The  grizzled  old  colonel's  eyes  were  popping  from  their 
bloodshot  sockets  and  he  reached  over  and  grasped  the 
Old  Sea  Dog  by  the  neck  and  choked  him. 

"  Roasted  it  !  Ground  it  up  !"  he  shouted.  "  Oh, 
sabres  and  columbiads  !" 

He  fell  back  weakly.  His  whole  face  was  purple  now, 
so  that  the  end  of  his  nose  looked  quite  white. 

The  Old  Sea  Dog  gently  rearranged  the  collar  ot  his 
flannel  shirt  and  proceeded  calmly. 


"  I  forgot  to  say,"  he  said,  "  that  the  only  time  you  can 
grind  up  water  in  a  coffee-mill  is  when  it  is  solid.  So  of 
course  we  used  ice.  That  was  logical  and  the  perfess- 
or " 

The  grizzled  old  colonel  breathed  deep  and  long.  I 
thought  he  was  going  to  die,  but  he  didn't.  He  arose 
from  his  chair.  He  was  weak  but  game.  He  had  but 
one  round  of  ammunition  left,  and  he  hred  jt  as-'ie  stood 
in  his  last  ditch.  '■    '     ."  ~ 

"  Ice  !  "  he  said,  with  the  accumulated  scorn  of  count- 
less ages  in  his  voice.  "  Ice  !  On  a  desert  isle  !  In  a 
sizzling  climate  !     Ice  !     And  logic  !" 

The  Old  Sea  Dog  reached  for  his  pipe  in  the  pocket  of 
his  shirt  and  carelessly  filled  it. 

"  Well,  yes,"  he  said  easily  ;  "  ice.  And  I  don't  wonder 
you  say  it,  colonel.  I  says  the  same  thing  to  the  per- 
fessor when  he  mentioned  it  to  me,  and  I  felt  much  the 
same  as  what  you  do  about  it.  But  the  perfessor  made  it 
all  easy  enough,  so  I  seen  it  clear  as  day.  Seems  that  in 
any  logical  syllogism  you've  got  to  take  something  for. 
granted,  so  we  just  figgered  that  so  long  as  we  needed  ice 
more  than  anything  else,  we'd  take  ice.     So  we  took  it." 


NEEDED  AN  GPI.'VTE. 
Farmer — "What  will  you  take  to  hoe  an  acre  of  potatoes?" 
Tramp — "Oh,  any  kind  uv  dope,  so's  I  won't  know'wot  I'm  doin'. 


The   Mother   of  the   Man 


By  William  J.   Lampton 


HE  boy  stood  hesitating  with  his  cap  in 
his  hand  as  the  man  at  the  desk  looked 
up  at  him.  He  seemed  to  doubt  the 
propriety  of  his  presence  in  the  place. 
At  least,  that  is  what  the  boy  thought. 
The  man  had  been  a  boy  himself  and 
years  before  had  stood  just  where  this 
as  standing.     He  had  not  forgotten  how  he  felt  tliat 

"  Well,"  he  said  encouragingly,  "  what  is  it  ?" 

"  I'm  looking  for  a  job,"  replied  the  boy,  gathering 
courage  from  the  man's  manner. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  inflecting  his  voice  upward. 
.  "  What  sort  of  a  job  are  you  looking  for  ?" 

"  1  don't  know." 

"  What  can  you  do  ?" 

"  I  can't  do  anything." 

"  That's  honest,  anyway,"  laughed  the  man.  "  Most 
boys — and  men — who  come  here  for  jobs  say  they  are 
ready  to  do  anything." 

"  Well,  that's  what  pa  said  I  should  say,  but  ma 
wouldn't  have  it,"  the  boy  explained.  "  Pa  told  me,  when 
I  started  out,  to  say  I'd  do  anything,  but  ma  said  what 
was  the  use  of  saying  you  could  do  anything  when  you 
couldn't  ?  Ma  said  to  tell  it  straight  and  that's  what  I 
done." 

The  man  laughed  again,  but  not  in  a  way  to  hurt  the 
boy's  feelings.  Indeed,  it  had  such  an  effect  upon  him 
that  he  laughed,  too.  After  that  a  sympathy  was  estab- 
lished between  them. 

"  Your  ma,"  said  the  man,  "seems  to  be  of  more  im- 
portance to  you  than  your  pa." 

"I  guess  she  is,"  the  boy  said  half  smiling,  but  serious. 
"  You  see,  pa  ain't  very  handy  at  supporting  a  family  and 
ma  runs  things  at  home,  including  pa.  Mebbe  at  first  pa 
thought  he  was  the  whole  push,  but  ma  said  he  didn't 
know  what  push  was,  and  I  guess  he's  made  up  his  mind 
that  ma  knows  what  she's  talking  about." 

"  But  he  still  seems  to  be  ready  to  give  you  advice," 
suggested  the  man. 

"  Yes,  and  ma,  too  ;  but  we  don't  pay  much  attention  to 
pa.     Ma  says  advice  is  about  all  he  can  give  the  family." 

"  Is  he  doing  anything  else  ?"  laughed  the  man. 

"Oh,  yes;  pa's  always  doing  something,  but  they 
ain't  never  any  money  in  it.  He  lost  a  whole  lot  of  jobs, 
ma  says,  that  paid,  and  after  while  he  took  to  getting  the 
kind  that  he  could  hold." 

"  That  was  sensible,  anyhow,"  approved  the  man. 
"What  kind  can  he  hold  ?" 

"  Oh,"  and  the  boy  grinned  broadly,  "  them  that  last 
about  a  week  for  six  dollars.  Pa  can  hold  them  as  long 
as  they  last,  then  he's  up  against  the  cold  world.  He'd 
shovel  snow  in  winter  or  shave  lawns  in  summer,  but 
they  ain't  reliable  for  family  use,  ma  says." 

"  He  seems  to  he  really  of  the  do-anything  kind,  doesn't 


he  ?"  smiled    the    man.     He    was   not   learning  anything 
new,  but  he  was  being  entertained. 

"  He's  sure  that,"  the  boy  smiled  back  at  him. 

The  man's  smile  departed  and  a  frown  came  in  its 
stead. 

"  Don't  you  think  you  are  very  disrespectful  to  your 
father  ?"  he  inquired  sternly.  "  I  don't  like  to  hear  a  boy 
talk  the  way  you  do." 

The  boy  was  taken  by  surprise,  but  he  stood  fast. 

"Well,  ma  knows  pa  better  than  you,"  he  said,  "and 
she  thinks  I'm  all  right." 

"  Maybe  I'm  not  the  one  to  judge,"  the  man  hesitated. 

"  You  ain't  when  you  go  against  ma,"  said  the  boy 
with  decision.     "  Did  you  ever  have  a  ma  ?" 

It  was  an  unexpected  question  and  the  man  was  not 
prepared  for  it.  He  looked  at  the  boy  as  if  to  question 
his  right  to  cross-e.xamine  him.  The  boy  never  flinched. 
The  man  fumbled  over  the  papers  on  his  desk. 

"  No,"  he  said,  after  a  minute,  with  a  little  shake  in 
his  voice  ;  "  my  mother  died  before  I  was  old  enough  to 
know  what  a  mother  was." 

"  That's  a  pity,"  said  the  boy,  not  noticing  the  eflfect  of 
his  question  on  the  man,  "especially  if  your  pa  was  like 
mine.     Was  he  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  admitted  the  man  cheerfully..  "My 
father  was  a  very  decent  sort." 

"  Oh,  mine  's  decent  enough,"  the  boy  hastened  to  ex- 
plain, "  but,  you  see,  he  just  don't  know  how  to  get  a 
move  on.  Ma  says  she  guesses  he  was  born  with  a  rock- 
ing-chair in  his  mouth." 

"  You  don't  seem  to  be  much  like  your  pa,"  ventured 
the  man,  still  willing  to  be  entertained. 

"  Ma  says  I'm  mighty  near  like  him  when  I  get  to 
talking  when  I  ought  to  be  working.  What  about  letting 
me  have  a  job  ?"  added  the  boy  with  a  snap. 

"  I  think  I'm  a  little  like  him  myself,"  the  man  confessed. 
"  I'd  forgotten  what  you  were  here  for.  Let  me  see — would 
you  undertake  to  be  an  errand-boy  and  sort  of  factotum 
about  the  office,  to  begin  with  at  three  dollars  a  week  .''" 

"  Sure,"  and  the  boy's  face  shone.  "  But,  say,  when  I 
tell  pa  I'm  factotumin'  at  three  per,  he'll  throw  a  fit." 

"And  what  will  your  ma  say  ?"  queried  the  man. 

"Oh,  ma  won't  say.  She'll  kiss  me  and  tell  me  to 
stick  to  it  and  earn  the  money." 

Poesie'a  la  Mode. 

I  AM  going  to  make  a  poem,  and  I  think  that  I  shall  take 
A  league  or  so  of  shadowy  sky,  a  dim,  mist-haunted  lake, 
With  tlie  pale  wraith  of  a  legend  floating  o'er  it  like  a  spell — 
But  this  strange,  blood-chilling  legend  I  must  never  really  tell. 

There  must  be  a  blotch  of  color  and  a  mystery  intense, 

But  with  music,  feeling,  beauty  one  can  easily  dispense  ; 

And — though  this  is  all  sub-rosa — it  is  best  to  leave  out  sense. 

When  I  've  made  the  little  poem, 

Blurring  over  very  well 
Any  careless  trace  of  clearness, 

I  am  sure  the  thing  will  sell. 


ADA  ''OSTER  MURRAY 


S  5- 


■c.'' 


Wh   o 


a;  en 

C    O 

ir 

CO  j^ 

&  |:^ 

§      Is 

O   «J  e 


U     C 


C   a> 


I  J. 

o  S 


Forward — March ! 


UST 


March,    with    biting     w-inds 

and  raw, 
A  taste  of  equinoctial  law, 
Slush,  slide,  alternate  freeze 
and  thaw. 

Since  changeling  arch 
Is  she  of  months,  on  sere  and 

green 
Alike  she  smiles,  then  vents 

her  spleen, 
And   more    than   hares   grow 
mad,  I  ween, 

With  March. 

And    cometh,    too  —  though 

naught  it  hurts — 
The  naughty  breeze  that  toys 
and  flirts, 
And  wantonly,  with  snow-white  skirts, 

All  stiff  with  starch. 
Till  mild,  meek  women,  truth  to  tell. 
Think,  though  they  do  not  say,  "To — well, 
A  place  the  ice  trust  doesn't  sell — 
With  March!" 

With  March  comes,  too,  the  shamrock  spray — 
Ah,  rare  indeed's  Saint  Patrick's  Day! 
Potations,  too,  that  thirsts  allay 

Of  throats  that  parch. 
Parades,  with  Erin's  flag  above! — 
'Tis  truly  fitting  as  a  glove 
We  men,  at  least,  should  be  in  love 

With  March! 

ROY   FARRELL  GREENE. 


How  To  Build  an  Easter  Bonnet. 

A  LTHOUGH  the  bonnet  factories  have  been  working 
■^^  day  and  night — and  sometimes  longer — they  have 
oee.n  unable  to  satisfy  the  great  demand  for  new  Easter 
lids,  and  in  order  to  soothe  those  aching  hearts  that  have 
been  disappointed,  we  give  below  a  simple  description  for 
building  a  beautiful  Easter  head-piece: 

First,  secure  an  old  mosquito  screen  and  cut  away 
the  wooden  frame  with  a  can-opener.  Take  the  net- 
ting and  run  it  through  a  sausage-machine  until  it 
resembles,  in  shape,  a  cramped  streak  of  lightning. 
With  the  potato-masher  punch  a  crown  into  the  mass. 
Then  have  a  tafirail,  or  brim,  running  from  the  bow  to 
the  stern.  This  should  be  wide  and  flaring,  e.xtending  well 
over  the  face.  This  large,  netty  brim  will  sift  the  cinders 
before  they  drop  into  your  eyes  from  the  "L"  road  above. 

After  this  turn  up  the  larboard  side  and  rivet  to  the 
poop-deck,  or  crown.  Then  get  about  a  handful  of  sauer- 
kraut and  sew  it  on  to  the  S.  by  SE.  corner  of  the  hat. 
This  makes  a  beautiful  aigrette,  and  when  not  doing 
business  on  the  bonnet,  can  be  worn  in  the  hair  at  ger- 
mans.  This  sauerkraut  should  be  changed  frequently, 
and  the  more  frequently  the  better.  If  kept  on  too  long 
it  looks  like  a  bale  of  hay  after  it  dries  up. 

Then,  if  your  courage  has  not  yet  failed  you,  secure 
a  broad  noodle  at  any  grocery-store,  boil  it  until  it  is  as 
soft  as  the  author's  head,  and  then  encircle  the  entire 
brim's  edge  with  it.  The  mushiness  of  the  noodle  fools 
the  men  into  believing  it  velvet. 

Instead  of  putting  stuffed  birds  on  the  bonnet,  put  on 
stuffed  olives.     The  latter  resemble  artificial  grapes  and 
there  is  no  Audubon  Society  to  protest  against  shooting 
them  out  of  season. 

The  entire  keel,  from  the  jibsail  to  the  fo'castle,  should 
be  tuck-shirred.  We  don't  know  what  tuck-shirred 
means,  but  if  we  don't  say  something  that  has  a  millinery 


flavor  to  it,  the  women  folks  will  consider  us  incompete 
to  give  advice  on  bonnet-building. 

In  order  to  finish  the  bonnet,  take  a  cheniUe-dotte 
fancy  mesh  sausage,  dip  it  into  a  pot  of  glue,  and  sprink 
with  small  downy  feathers.  The  feathers  will  stick  to  tl 
sausage,  and  will  serve  as  an  imitation  ostrich  plum- 
The  effect  is  pretty  and  the  cost  is  nominal.  It  should  I. 
sewed  on  the  bonnet  about  five  inches  from  the  rudder. 

After  all  this  is  completed,  put  the  whole  in  an  ove 
and  roast  for  two  hou 

But  hold  on!  We  have  forgotten  just  now  whethe 
we  are  describing  the  building  of  a  bonnet,  a  boat  or  suet 
pudding.  F.  p.  PiTZER. 

Wanted  a  Pathetic  Picture. 

/^NE  DAY,  recently,  a  German  entered  the  studio  of  a 
^^  Chicago  photographer,  and  after  several  glance? 
about  the  place,  mournfully  observed  that  the  photog- 
rapher did  not  seem  to  have  the  properties  essential  to 
the  taking  of  the  picture  he  desired. 

"I  should  like  a  picture  of  myself,  veeping  p)eside  my 
vife's  grafe, "  he  said.  "Maypee  you  fix  a  grafe  in  de 
shop  for  me?" 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  not  the  necessary  scenery,"  said 
the  photographer.  Then,  with  an  attempt  at  facetious- 
ness,  he  suggested, 

"Couldn't  we  arrange  to  have  the  portrait  made  at 
the  grave  itself?" 

"Dot's  over  at  Cincinnati,"  sighed  the  German. 
"It  vould  be  too  expensive  to  go  dere.  Just  you  fix  up 
some  kind  of  a  grafe  here  in  de  shop.  I  could  veep  on 
dot.     It's  no  trouble  for  me  to  veep  anyvhere. " 

G.  W.  WILSON. 


I' 


HOLDING   THEIR  JOB. 

"  I  see  by  the  paper  thet  the  jury  in  thet  hoss-stealin' 
case  took  three  days  to  come  to  an  agreement." 

"  Wa-al,  ye  can't  blame  'em.  Ye  see,  they  wtiz  gettin' 
two  dollars  a  day." 


IN   THE   \OLCANIC   BELT. 


n 


•^^j^ 


\.  Tourist —  "  I  suppose  there's  not  mucii  movement  in  real-estate  about 
here  since  the  mountain  became  active." 


Ballade  of  Dead  Novels. 

(With  due  amends  to  Master  Francois  Villon  of  the  Fircone  tavern  / 
B  WONDER  in  what  auction-rooms 

One  bids  for  "Trilby  "  thirty  cents. 
Or  where  the  "  Audrey"  craze  still  booms, 
Or  •'  David  Harum  "  's  thought  immense  ; 
Where  ••  Eben  Holden  "  now  is  sold? 

The  wind  has  blown  them  all  away  ; 
The  tales  that  flourished  once  are  old — 
Where  are  the  books  of  yesterday  ? 

Say  where  brave  Mary  Johnston  sleeps 

On  dust-strewn  shelves,  quite  out  of  reach, 
And  where  the  lonely  cockroach  keeps 

It  guard  of  Weyman,  once  a  '-peach  "; 
Where  are  the  yarns  of  cloak  and  sword  ? 

The  wind  has  blown  them  all  away  ; 
No  more  "best  sellers"  are  they  scored — 

Where  are  tlie  books  of  yesterday? 

The  knighthood  that  was  once  in  flower, 

It  seems,  alas  !  has  gone  to  seed  ; 
The  rural  tale  that  or.ce  had  power 

Has  gasped  its  last  "b'gosh  !"  indeed. 
And  with  reluctant  hand  on  latch — 

The  wind  will  blow  it  soon  away — 
We  see  ' '  Wiggs  of  the  Cabbage  Patch  " — 

Where  are  the  books  of  yesterday  ? 

Alas  for  Wiggses,  Harums,  all ! 

The  wind  has  blown  them  quite  away. 
The  ■•  rubes,"  the  swordsmen,  great  and  sn,dll-^ 

Where  are  the  books  of  yesterday  ? 


I 


The  Poetic  Machine. 

SC'UND  you  I  weave  sweet  strains  of  poesy, 
I  say  such  nice  things  of  your  eyes  of  blue — 
In  sooth,  I  swear  that  they  do  thrill  me  through. 
Votu:  tresses,  to  the  winds  a-blowing  free, 
I  call  spun  gold  ;   luiending  witchery 

Dwells  in  your  ev'ry  smile  ;  and  when  I  view 
Your  ripe,  red  lips  I  rhapsodize  anew — 
I  hear  your  voice  and  dream  of  Arcady, 
But  'tis  not  that  I'm  given  to  romance  ; 

'Tis  not  because  Dan  Cupid  holds  me  hard 
That  I  write  verses  to  you,  pretty  maid. 
But  rather  that  it's  such  a  glorious  chance 

For  such  as  I — an  humble,  modest  bard — 
To  give  an  airing  to  his  slock-in-trade. 

No  More  Seasickness. 

((  /^H,  Edith  !"  exclaimed  Maude,  who  had  just 
experienced  an  unusually  smooth  voyage 
across  the  ocean,  "  I'll  never  dread  going  to 
Europe  again.  The  large  ships  have  worn  down 
the  big  waves  so  much  that  they  are  now  almost 
perfectly  level." 


,     '--  'A      -;^J^ 

:3ll 


« 


Against  Her  Principles. 

aJIRS.    ALIMONY   contemplates   another  di- 
vorce." 

She  vkon't  let  any  hus- 


vorce. 
"  I'm   not  surprised 
band  become  permanently  identified  with  her." 

20 


2,  The  promoter — "  Well,  I  can't  say  that  it's  exactly  at  a  standstill.' 


AN  ACCIDENTAL  HERO 


By  ELLIS  O.  JONES 


ENRY  STUMP,  the  notorious  book- 
maker, sat  all  alone  in  his  luxurious 
bachelor  apartments  in  upper  Fifth 
Avenue.  His  heavy  black  mustaches 
glistened  and  glinted  richly  in  the 
subdued  glare  of  the  footlights.  A 
set  fireplace  composed  of  electric 
lights,  with  red  bulbs,  cast  a  passion- 
ate light  over  the  room.  Hastily 
he  drank  half  a  dozen  bottles  of 
champagne  to  nen'e  himself  for  the  ordeal. 

It  was  midnight,  almost  the  conventional  time  for  the 
alleged  heroine  to  arrive.  He  felt  in  his  pocket  to  see  if 
he  had  the  telltale  papers.     Yes,  they  were  there. 

He  got  up  to  poke  the  fire,  taking  care  lest  he  touch  it 
and  break  something.  Then  there  came  a  timid  knock 
at  the  door.  "Ah,  there  she  is  at  last!"  he  e.xclaimed 
dramatically,  rising  to  admit  the  visitor. 

It  was  indeed  sweet  Kitty  Carstraps,  the  lily  of  Har- 
lem. 

"So  you've  decided  to  do  it  the  same  old  way,  eh?" 
hissed  Stump  as  he  took  her 
beautiful  opera  cloak  and  ar- 
ranged the  chair  so  that  her 
pompadour  would  get  'he  full 
efifect  of  the  firelight. 

"Yes,  I  must,  "she  replied, 
cowering  from  him  just  a  trifle. 
"The  managers  won't  have  it 
any  other  way." 

"All  right,  an}'thing  to  suit 
the  managers,  but  hurry  up. 
I'd  like  to  get  this  smoking 
jacket  off  as  soon  as  possible. 
I  [feel  like  a  fool  ^in  it.  What 
time  do  you  e.xpect  'Honest 
Bill'?" 

"Oh,  he  ought  to  be  here  in 
a  few  minutes.  WhUe  I'm  wait- 
ing I  think  I'll  practice  shrinking 
and  cowering.  That's  the  conven- 
tional thing,  I  believe. " 

"Yes,  I  believe  it  is.  But  say, 
I  saw  'Honest  BUI'  to-day,  and 
he  looked  as  if  he'd  been  drink- 
ing. At  least  he  didn't  act  the 
same  as  usual.  I  hope  he  won't 
ball  things  up. " 

"He  surely  will  if  "he's  been 
drinking.  He  never  acts  the 
same  when  he's  got  a  bun  on. 
In  vino  Veritas,  you  know. " 

There  was  a  sturdy  knock  at 
the  door.  Sweet  Kitty  Carstraps 
shrank  clear  across  the  room  and 
cowered  knee-deep  in  the  corner. 

BiU  entered,  advanced  to  the 
table,    and   picked  up   a  cigar. 


SUBMISSION. 

The  new  member — "  I  suppose  you  never 
thought  I'd  be  elected  to  the  legislature,  did 
you,  '  Rastus  ?  "  . 

The  waiter — "  No,  sah;  but  de  Lawd's 
will  be  done." 


After  carefully  e.xamining  it  to  see  if  it  were  legitimate 
or  only  vaudeville,  he  struck  a  match  with  a  floiu'ish  and 
lighted  it. 

No  one  spoke  for  a  lengthy  dramatic  period,  until 
finally  Stump,  in  harsh,  stage-managerial  tones,  began, 
"Come,  come,  get  busy.  You're  holding  the  stage. 
There  she  is  over  there  in  the  corner.  Upraid  her  and 
revile  her." 

At  this,  Kitty  cowered  several  inches  more,  but  Bill 
just  flicked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  and  replied  deliber- 
ately, "Now,  wait  a  minute.    Let's  do  this  thing  right  for 
once.     In  the  first  place,  you're  the  villain,  aren't  you  ?  " 
"I  am,"  answered  Stump. 

"  Yes,  I  thought  so.  Now,  in  the  second  place,  Kitty's 
the  heroine,  isn't  she?" 

"Yes,  she  certainly  is,"  answered  the  villain. 
"  Of  course,  and  I'm  the  hero. " 
"Yes,  yes,"  said  Stump  impatiently,  "but  why  all 
this  talk  ?  That  isn't  in  the  part.     There  is  no  dramatist 
who  would  have  sense  enough  to  talk  that  way." 

"Never  mind  the  dramatists,"  said  Bill.  "The  situ- 
ation is  just  this.  I  am  en- 
gaged to  Kitty.  Convention- 
ally she  has  no  right  in  this  room 
of  yours,  but  she's  of  age  and 
knows  her  own  business.  If  she 
wants  to  tell  me  about  it,  all 
right.  If  she  wants  to  break  off 
the  engagement,  all  right.  If 
not,  all  right.  It  would  be  a 
pretty  how-de-do  if,  right  after 
I'd  sworn  undjdng  love,  I'd 
come  around  here  and  fly  off  the 
handle  just  because  she  did  some- 
thing which  I  didn't  under- 
stand." 

"Yes,  but  how  about  the 
play  ?  "  asked  Kitty,  coming  for- 
ward. "And  the  audience?  \\Tiat 
will  the  audience  say  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  the  au' 
dience  will  say,  and  we  never 
will  know  until  we  try.  But  I 
can't  see  why  an  audience 
wouldn't  like  a  real  hero  for  a 
change,  mstead  of  a  conceited 
cad  and  an  asinine  idiot. " 

As  Kitty  listened  to  his 
words,  all  fear  left  her.  Gradu- 
ally she  came  closer  to  him,  and 
finally  she  could  restrain  herself 
no  longer.  She  tnrew  her  arms 
around  "Honest  Bill's"  neck 
and  fervently  exclaimed,  "My 
darling.  At  last  we  have  a  real 
hero.  A  national  theatre  ought 
to  be  built  for  you. "  (Prolonged 
applause.)     Cijrtain. 


ou5 


Amphibious   Cottage 

By  F.  P.  Pitzer 


n 


HEY  called  it  the  Amphibious  Cottage,  I  guess, 
because  half  the  time  it  was  in  the  water  and 
the  other  half  it  was  on  land.  The  proprietor 
was  an  old  sea-dog  ;  but  the  way  he  chawed 
tobacco  made  him  look  more  like  a  sea-cow.  The  cottage 
stood  so  close  to  the  sea  that  the  boarders  occupying 
front  rooms  on  retiring  put  on  bathing-suits  instead  of 
pajamas,  because  no  one  knew  what  minute  a  wave 
would  come  up  the  front  stoop  and  crawl  into  the  rooms. 
Every  morning  the  mosquito  nettings  were  full  of  fish. 
The  pillows  were  stuflfed  with  cork  and  the  beds  were 
built  in  the  form  of  rafts.  There  were  old-fashioned  mot- 
toes hung  about  the  rooms  reailing,  "  Paddle  your  own 
canoe,"  "  We  will  gather  at 
the  river,"  etc.  One  dark 
night  we  heard  a  terrific 
bump  against  the  house. 
Some  mistook  it  for  an  earth- 
quake on  its  way  home  from 
San  Francisco  ;  but  upon 
looking  out  of  the  parlor- 
window  we  discovered  that 
a  ferry-boat  from  Jersey  City 
had  run  into  us. 

There  was  no  shooting 
about  t  h  e  premises,  b  u  t 
every  Fritl.iy  tlie  boarders 
used  to  fish  from  the  roof 
of  the  cottage. 

One  dark  night  a  newly- 
arrived  couple  held  a  spoon- 
fest  on  the  front  piazza.  In 
fact,  their  yum-yumming  was 
so  strenuous  they  actually 
soup-spooned.  They  did  not 
see  the  tide  rising,  and  as 
they  spooned,  oblivious  of  all 
surroundings,  the  tide  riz. 
Soon  the  water  came  up 
round  them,  but  they  kept 
right  on  spooning.  When 
their  feet  had  been  in  the 
salt  water  long  enough  to ' 
be  pickled,  he  said  to  she, 
"  Dost  know,  Dryid,  'tis  get- 
ting dam-damp  ?"  (No  ;  the 
man  stuttered.)  "  Yes,"  said 
she  to  he;  "an'  methinkest 
'tis  goingski  to  rain — me 
corn  aches."  But  upon 
reaching  down  for  that 
afflicted  member  she  dis- 
covered their  predicament. 
She  jumped  up  with  a  scream 
and    a    crab  dangling  from 


her  little  toe.  Then  he  jumped  up,  only  to  find  the 
turn-ups  of  his  trousers  full  of  fish.  They  both  immedi- 
ately got  cold  feet  and  retired. 

Amphibious  Cottage  !     I  shall  never  forget  it. 


//<f— "Miss    Olkyrl   and    Mr.   Stagit  played    cards  to- 
gether the  whole  voyage." 
She — "  Which  won  ?  " 
He — "  It  resulted  in  a  tie." 


I  OUD  sing  the  praises  of  the  golden  straw 
"     That  slants  aloft  at  forty-five  degrees — 
Tlie  frail  connecting  link  that  weds  serene 
The  rapt  soul  and  the  julep  lush  and  ccml. 


A  STANDING  JOKB. 
Mrs.  Newlywed — "  What  did  you  do  with  those  cigars  I  bought  you  last  birthday?" 
Mr.  Newlywed — "Oh,  I'm  saving  them  up  for  a  few  of  my  dearest  friends," 
Mrs.  Newlywed — "Till  when?" 
Mr.  Newlywed—"  The  first  of  April." 


MATRIMONIAL   HINTS. 
Mother — "  Has  that  young  man  hinted  anything  abont  'matrimony'  yet?" 
Daughter — "  Oh,  yes.     He  has  hinted  several  times  that  he  should  think  you  and 
pa  would  either  stop  fighting  or  get  a  divorce." 


Imprudent  Queries. 

n'VO  question  the  intelligence  of  the  proletariat  is  unpa- 
triotic !"  I  exclaimed  indignantly. 
"  Unpatriotic  ?"  repeated  the  capitalist  and  statesman 
— great  two  in  one — in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  knew  from 
experience.     "  It's  worse — it's  unprofitable." 

Discouraging  the  Idea. 

**  \A/HAT  do  you  think,"  asks   the   rector,  "  of  the  sug' 
gestion   that  we  hav^  women  to  take  up  the  collec- 
tion ?" 

"  Not  at  this  time  of  the  year,"  answers  the  wise  old 
vestryman.  "  Now  that  the  fall  millinery  is  coming  in  you 
couldn't  induce  a  woman  to  pass  the  hat  on  any  pretext." 


Their  Orders. 

(( /^IMME  a  cheese  sandwich," 
said  the  human  ostrich,  ad- 
dressing the  fair  young  thing  who 
administered  the  refections  at  the 
railroad  lunch-counter.  "And,  say, 
make  it  outer  Swiss  cheese,  will 
yer  ?" 

"  I  am  obliged  to  exercise  great 
care  in  dieting,"  said  the  idolator, 
who  worshiped  his  own  stomach, 
as  is  the  way  of  the  chronic  dys- 
peptic. "  You  may  give  me  the 
holes  out  of  the  gentleman's  Swiss 
cheese,  if  you  please." 

At  Newport. 

She — "You  must  not  kiss  me 
until  we  are  formally  engaged." 

J/e — "  Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  always  insist  upon  that  rule  ?" 

S/ie — "  I've  always  tried  to." 

Floor-'waliiing. 

Head  fioor-walker  (severely)  — 
"  I  heard  you  tell  the  lady  she  would 
find  the  ribbons  at  the  third  coun- 
ter to  the  left." 

New  floor-walker —  "  That's 
where  they  are." 
Head floor-'walker—-'Ye.5;  but  you  should  have  told 
her  to  go  to  the  right  past  the  necktie  bargain-counter, 
turn  to  the  left  past  the  stocking  bargain-counter,  then 
three  counters  to  the  right  past  the  shirt-waist  bargain- 
counter,  and  so  on.     You'll  never  make  a  floor-walker." 

An  Ideal  Selection. 

Washing-machine  agents"  What  became  of  that  fel- 
low Lazzenberry,  who  used  to  be  always  lounging  around 
here,  telling  how  hard  he  had  to  work  when  he  was  a 
boy  ?" 

Tavern  landlord — "  Aw,  he  finally  got  too  lazy  to  loaf 
without  a  salary,  and  so  we  turned  in  and  elected  him 
constable." 


^"^^■^^ 


The  Probable  Place. 

Mary — "  'Where  did  the  Blowers  spend  the  sum- 
mer ?" 

yane — "  It's  hard  to  tell.  Mr.  Blower  says  they 
went  to  Newport,  Mrs.  Blower  says  they  were  at 
Narragansett,  while  Clara  says  they  were  at  Bar 
Harbor ;  so  I  judge  they  spent  the  summer  on 
Staten  Island." 

At  the  Zoo. 

The  cockatoo — "  Hey,  down  there  !  'What  the 
dickens  are  you  laughing  about  ?" 

The  hyena — "  You  oughter  seen  the  stork  when 
he  heard  that  seventeen  pairs  of  twins  had  been  born 
into  the  crocodile  family.  By  gosh  !  he  went  straight 
up  in  the  air." 


The  Reason 

I'M  not  a  shallow,  empty  thing, 
•     As  you  might  very  well  suppose  ; 
I'm  not  a  monkey  on  the  wing, 
Nor  even  in  repose. 

I  know  my  temples  swift  recede, 
And  that  I  am  indeed  a  guy  ; 

And  many  think  I  only  feed 
On  angel-cake  and  pie. 

But  I  can  tell  you  I  am  full 

Of  soundest,  horsy  common  sense, 

And  have  the  strength  of  any  bull 
That  tver  leaped  a  fence. 

And  I  will  to  you  further  say, 

That  you  the  case  may  understand, 

Bridge-whist  throughout  the  night  and  day 
1  play  to  beat  the  band. 


Not  for  Uncle  Bill 

A  Red  Demi  in  the  Heat  t  of  the  Maine  Woods 
By  Joe  Cone 


NCLE  BILL  SAWYER  leaned  on  his  hoe  and 
let  his  gaze  run  up  between  the  hills,  a  pic- 
ture of  astonishment  and  unbelief. 

"  Yew  don't  mean  tur  tell  me,  ■  El','  thcy's 
one  uv  them  air  auterbiles  up  yender  in  the 
'  interval,'  do  ye  ?" 

"  El' "  Ganey,  guide,  fisherman  and  trapper,  informed 
Uncle  Bill  that  that  was  exactly  what  he  wished  to  im- 
part. 

"  It's  over  in  Hanky's  lot,  in  the  tall  grass,"  he  ex- 
plained ;  "  they've  got  stuck  thar  an'  I'm  goin'  over  tur 
the  village  an'  tellerphome  fur  a  machinist." 

"  Is  she  stuck  for  sure  ?"  asked  Uncle  Bill. 

"  Fast  as  a  hen  on  aigs,"  replied  "  El'  "  Ganey. 

"Guess  I'll  ni'ander  over  an' give  her  a  look,"  said 
Uncle  Bill  cautiously. 

Ganey  went  on  his  way,  and  Uncle  Bill,  making  a 
wide  circle,  gradually  drew  nearer  the  stalled  machine 
till  he  was  within  speaking  distance.  Here  he  stopped, 
holding  his  hoe  over  his  shoulder,  ready  to  strike  if  the 
thing  showed  any  signs  of  unfriendliness. 

"  Hi  !"  he  called  at  length,  "  won't  she  go  ?" 

Two  men,  covered  with  dirt,  grease,  vexation  and  per- 
spiration, crawled  from  somewhere  beneath  the  ponder- 
ous car. 

"  Not  so 's  you  'd  notice  it,"  growled  one.  The  other,  a 
little  more  amiable,  replied,  "  She  wasn't  built  for  the  tall 
grass." 

Uncle  Bill  drew  a  bit  nearer,  but  measured  a  respect- 
able distance  with  his  eye,  and  kept  it. 

"  Thet  'ere's  a  reg'lar  auterbile,  is  it  ?"  he  queried. 

"The  real  thing,"  replied  the  amiable  one  ;  "  never  see 
one  before  ?" 

"  Nope,  she's  the  fust  ;  never  'spected  seein'  one  uv 
them  up  here  in  this  country.     I'd  like  tur  see  her  go." 

"  So  would  we,"  grumbled  the  hot  one. 

"  Kin  yew  back  'er  ?"  asked  Uncle  Bill  ;  "  thet  is, 
when  she's  normal  ?" 

"  Sure  thing,"  answered  the  amiable  one. 

"Kin  yew  haw  an'  gee  'er  tew  ?  '  queried  Uncle  Bill, 
becoming  more  and  more  interested. 

"She'll  do  anything  a  yoke  of  cattle  will  do,"  replied 
his  friend. 

"  Guess  she'll  do  more,  won't  she  ?  I  never  seen  a 
yoke  uv  cattle  do  what  she's  doin'  naow,"  returned  Uncle 
Bill  dryly. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  take  a  ride  in  her  ?"  the  amiable 
one  asked. 

"I  dunno;  I — I  guess  like  enough  I  wouldn't,"  replied 
Uncle  Bill,  backing  off  a  few  steps. 

The  disagreeable  one  had  resumed  his  former  position 
under  the  machine.  In  a  few  moments  he  backed  out 
quickly,  and,  seizing  a  wheel  on  the  side,  gave  it  two  or 
three  turns.  Suddenly  a  "  chug-chug"  noise,  accompa- 
nied by  splutterings  and    cracklings  smote  the  air,  and 


Uncle  Bill  turned  his  attention  toward  the  nearest  fence. 
The  hot  one  jumped  into  the  machine  and  instantly  she 
darted  ahead  several  rods.  Then  she  backed,  and  a  mo- 
ment later,  when  the  grass  was  wallowed  down  some, 
"  hawed  and  geed  "  beautifully. 

"Get  aboard!"  shouted  the  hot  one,  "and  we'll  go 
down  the  pike  and  pick  up  Ganey." 

Uncle  Bill  never  ceased  sprinting  till  the  fence  divided 
them. 

"  Won't  you  join  us  ?"  called  the  amiable  one,  and 
they  turned  the  machine  in  the  direction  Uncle  Bill  had 
taken.  They  stopped  in  front  ot  the  fence,  but  good  old 
Uncle  Bill  had  disappeared  in  the  pines. 

Nowadays. 

((  IS    MY  hat  on  straight?"   the  women-folks  long  years  ago 
'         would  say  ; 

But  nowadays  the  men  they  ask,  quite  gruff, 
Before  they  leave  their  families  in  the  morning,  night  or  day, 
"  Is  my  panama  knocked  out  of  shape  enough?" 


NOT  MUCH   TIME. 


'My 


Mrs.  Coldstream  {of  the  Hotel  Comfort.  Bowery")- 
good  man,  do  you  never  find  time  to  read  the  bible  ?" 

Rickety  Richard — "Not  often,  mum  ;  I  don't  git  put  in 
jail  more  'n  twice  a  year." 


CEMENTING   THE    FRIENDSHTP. 

Cassidy — "When  Dick  Croker  was  over  in  England  he  done  all  he  cud  to  incr'ase  the 
good-feeling  thot  England  has  for  Amerikay." 

COSTIGAN — "  How  so?" 

Cassidy — '-Wlioy,  he  hasn't  had  a  horse  win  yit  and  has  lost  five  thousan'  pounds." 


A  Scientific  Test. 
A  PHYSICIAN'S  little 
daughter,  who  had 
given  her  head  a  hard 
thump  on  the  sidewalk, 
cried  out  to  her  mother, 
"Oh,  mamma!  I  did 
knock  my  head  so  hard  ; 
but" — feeling  the  pretty 
member  over  carefully — 
"  I  don't  think  my  brain  's 
hurt,  because  I  tried  it, 
and  I  can  spell  c-a-t,  cat ; 
c-a-t,  cat — and  c-a-t  does 
spell  cat,  don't  it  ?  I'm 
sure  my  brain  's  all  right.' 

Not  Up  to  Date. 

Mrs.  Rich  in  o  nd  — 
"What  'is  your  objection 
to  your  new  pastor  .■"" 

Mrs.  Bronxborough — 
"Oh,  he's  such  an  old  fogy. 
Why,  he's  never  once  been 
tried  for  heresy." 


Possibly  the  Tree  of  Knowledge. 

THE  writer  one  day  walked  down  Blank  street  behind 

two  persons  who  were  evidently  revisiting  scenes  that 
had  for  them  some  associations  with  the  past  ;  for  they 
spoke  eagerly,  recalling  incidents  connected  with  the  ob- 
jects they  passed. 

"  That's  it,"  one  of  them  exclaimed  as  they  paused  be- 
fore a  house  with  a  large  garden  ;  "  that's  the  dear  old 
house  !" 

"  'Ves,"  cried'  the  other  excitedly,  pointing  to  a  corner 
of  the  garden  ;  "  and  that  is  where  the — the — oh,  the — 
what-you-may-call-um-tree  grew — you  remember." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  with  equal  excitement  ;  "  you  mean 
the — the — thing-um-bob." 

This  classification  of  the  tree  seemed  to  sntis 
them  both  ;    for  after  gazing   pensively  at  the  spot 
where  the  "  thing-um-bob  "   had   grown  they 
passed  on  with  an  expression  of  reminiscent 
pleasure  on  their  faces. 

No  Wonder, 

Duff—"\  tell  you  that 
boiler -maker  swings  the 
sledge  -  hammer  in  great 
style,  doesn't  he  ?" 

Huff—'-  He  ought  to. 
He  learned  the  trick  play- 
ing golf." 

Not  Funny. 

((  IS    HIS    new    play  a 
tragedy  ?" 
"  It   must    be.      There 
are  two  marriages  in  the 
first  act." 


At  the  Zoo. 

Smith—"  They  say  the  elephant  has  a  poetry  of  motion 
peculiar  to  himself ;  but  I  cannot  understand  it,  can  you  ?  ' 

Jones — "  Not  at  all.  It  mu'-f  le  h;  magazine-poetry 
of  motion." 


DIPLOMACY. 
Tactful  shoe-clerk — "Here  is  a  pair  of  one-and-a-half  shoes  that  the  maker  has  marked,numbei 
six  by  mistake.     Just  try  this  on,  please  ;  I  believe  it  will  just  fit  you."     (Trial  and  speedy  sale.) 


An  Old  Salt's  Observations 


m 


HEN  A  young  girl  reads  a  novel  it's  to  gloat  over 
what  may  some  clay  happen  to  herself,  an'  she 
may  feel  an'  do  that's  glorious  an"  fine.     When 
an  old  woman  reads  a  novel  it's  to  satisfy  her- 
self that  every  one  else  is  jest  as  foolish  as  she  has  been 

all  her  life  an'  ain't  done  no  fine  things  at  all. 

There's  sixty  minutes  in  th'  iiour.     Sixty  times  twenty- 
four  is  fourteen  hundred  an'  forty.     Tnere's  sixty  seconds 

in  each  minute.     Sixiy  times  fourteen  hundred  an'  forty 

is   eighty-six    thousand 

four  hundred.     There's 

twenty-four    hours     in 

each  clay,  an'  twenty- 
four    times     eighty-six 

thousand  four  hundred 

is  two   million  thirteen 

thousand  six  hundred. 

That's   the   number    of 

times    a    day    that    we 

may  expect  to  have  th' 

opposition  press   try  to 

explain    why  it   is   that 

high   wages    an'   much 

work    for    th'    laborer, 

an'     happiness,     peace 

an"   prosperity    for    all, 

furnish    good     reasons 

for  makin'-a  change  in 

your  politics  this  year. 
Th'  feller  that  thinks 

there  ain't  no  use  in  ad- 
vertisin'  is  th'  same  man 
that  don't  believe  in 
sendin'his  little  ones  to 
school. 

There's  one  class  of 
folks  that's  great  suffer- 
ers from  th'  present 
price  of  beef,  but  don't 
git  no  sympathy  from 
none  of  us.  I  mean  th' 
fellers  wiih  th'  black 
eyes. 

When  you're  sizin' 
up  your  fellow-men  be 
sure  to  take  your  obser- 
vations in  th'  right  lati- 
tude. Some  men  that's 
great  when  measured 
round   th'  waist  is  less 

than  middlin'  if  you  measure  where  they  wear  their  hats. 
A  feller  in  th'  smokin'-room  was  kickin'  on  th'  quahty 
of  th'  ship's  champagne.  Two  days  later,  after  th'  ship 
was  wrecked,  he  was  suckin'  at  a  han'kerchief  soaked  in 
dew  an'  sayin'  that  it  tasted  most  remarkable  good  an' 
sweet. 

I  dreamt  I  went  to  hell.  There  was  an  awful  wailin' 
in  th'  northeast  corner.  "  What  you  doin'  with  that 
feller  ?"  I  asked  of  th'  devil      "  Oh,"  says  he,  "  that's  one 


WOMAN'S  WAY. 
He — "  Why,  I'd  marry  that  girl  in  a  minute." 
She — '-That  would  be  the  only  way.     If  you  gave  her  two 
minutes  to  think  it  over  she  'd  flunk." 


of  th'  chaps  that  was  always  preachin'  when  he  was  up  on 
earth,  an'  he's  feelin'  mighty  bad  about  th'  punishment  I 
give  him."  "  What  you  doin'  to  him  .'"  I  asKcd  then. 
"  Oh,  jest  makin'  of  him  practice  what  he  preached  on 
earth,"  he  says. 

A  woman  passenger  said  to  me  one  time,  "  Mercy  !  I 
should  think  you'd  git  awful  tired  goin'  to  sea.  You 
don't  have  no  society."  Later  I  was  ashore,  an' she  asked 
me  to  come  up  to  a  lawn.party  she  was  givin".     I  went. 

I  stayed  a  while  an" 
sampled  folks.  "Is 
this  society  ?"  I  asked. 
"  It  is,"  she  sa\s.  Th' 
reason  that  I  chuckled 
as  I  went  away  was 
because  I  was  so  glad 
I  spend  most  my  time 
at  sea. 

"  What  makes  you 
go  for  such  a  long 
cruise  on  your  yacht  ?' 
a  feller  asks  a  million- 
aire. "To  git  away 
from  th'  worries  of  th' 
financial  world,"  he  an- 
swers. He'd  been  to 
sea  two  days  when  he 
rung  th'  jingle-bell  for 
full  speed  an'  told  th' 
skipper  to  steer  her 
straight  for  home. 
"  What's  up  ?"  th'  skip- 
per says.  "Great 
Scott  !  "  the  millionaire 
replies,  "  they  ain't  no 
newspapers  out  here, 
an'  I  ain't  seen  a  ticker 
since  we  left  our  dock." 
I  knew  a  boy  that 
got  his  idea  of  queens 
from  playin'-cards  ;  an' 
when  he  see  a  real  one 
he  cried  because  she 
didn't  have  two  heads, 
one  at  each  end,  thus 
disappointin'  him  by 
bein'  much  less  wonder- 
ful than  he  had  thought. 
We  're  all  of  us  like  that 
in  some  things. 
Bill  Jones,  he  's  fearful  fond  ot  money.  T'other  day  he 
let  Smith  kick  him  for  an  hour,  although  he  could  have 
licked  Smith  easy.  "  What  did  you  do  that  for  ?"  I  asked 
him.  "Oh,  well,"  he  says,  "Smith's  got  lots  of  money. 
Now  I've  got  a  damage-suit  ag'inst  him." 

EDWARD  XtARSIIALL. 

Stars  Are  Distant. 

"  That  woman's  eyes  are  like  stars." 
'  I  noticed  a  far-away  look  in  them." 


Henry- 
James— 


'Twas  But  a  Dream. 

■V\7"EARY  WILLIE  stood  in  the  road  and  watched  the 
'^"    Easter  parade  go  by,  and  when  the  fashionable  folk 
had  passed  out  of  sight  he  sat  down  on  the  curbstone  and 
began  to  cry  as  if  his  heart  was  breaking. 

"Here,  you!"  exclaimed  a  policeman  who  happened 
along.     "  What  kind  of  a  jag  is  this  you've  got  ?  " 

"I  ain't  jagged,  boss,"  replied  the  weeping  hobo  as  he 
wiped  his  eyes  on  his  tattered  old  coat. 

"  Then  what  ails  you  ?  " 

"  De  sight  uv  dose  swells  brought  back  de  old  times  ter 
me." 

"  Why,  you're  crazy! "  said  the  policeman.     "  You  were 
never  in  that  class,  and 
well  you  know  it." 

"Wuzn't  I  ever  like 
dem?"  asked  Weary 
Willie. 

"Certainly  not. 
You've  been  a  bum  and 
a  soak  and  a  gutter- 
snipe all  your  life." 

"An' — an'  wuzn't  I 
never  a  rich  gent  dat 
lived  on  Fift'  Avenoo  an' 
rode  in  me  auto,  an' 
went  ter  church  wid  me 
b'iled  shirt  an'  me  high 
hat  on  ?  " 

"Never  in  your  life." 

"Gee!  den  I  ain't 
got  nothin'  ter  feel  bad 
about,  after  all," 
chuckled  the  tramp  as 
a  broad  smile  came  over 
his  face.  "  Yer  know  I 
must  hev  dreamed  den 
dat  I  wuz  once  dat 
kind  uv  a  guy,  an'  me 
heart  wuz  flutterin',  an' 
I  wuz  feelin'  like  a  lost 
dog  in  a  blizzard,  when 
yer  came  along.  So  I 
wuz  always  jest  a  good 
old  bum,  eh?  Well,  dat 
takes  a  big  load  oS  me 
mind." 

And  Weary  Willie 
shambled  off  up  the 
street,  whistling  as  he 
went.  A.  B.  L. 

Utterly  Incongruous. 

k--  AH!"  said  the  pen- 

■^^    sive  maiden  as 
Lent  was  almost  over,  "listen  to  the  weird  wind  singing 
its  sad  requiem  about  the  angles  of  our  humble  home." 

"Requiem  nothing!"  said  the  young  man  beside 
her.  "  Who  ever  heard  of  a  requiem  sung  in  March- 
time?" 

Whereupon  the  young  woman  was  silent  in  the  presence 
of  a  musical  knowledge  superior  to  her  own. 

Real  Modesty. 

**  WT^AS  your  marriage  a  failure?" 
"No;  but  my   wife's  was." 


THE  WAY  OF  THE  TRANSGRESSOR. 


Don't  Bacilli. 

D  ONALD'S  father  is  a  well-knowTi  bacteriologist,  and 
*■  *■  the  small  son  shows  that  he  grasps  the  meaning  of  a 
few  famiUar  terms,  for  upon  coming  to  the  table  one  morn- 
ing he  asked  his  mother  if  she  thought  the  cereal  had  germs 
in  it. 

"  Germs!    Ronald,  of  course  not.    Don't  be  silly." 
"That's  just  what  I  mean — bacilli,"  was    his  instant 
rejoinder. 

His  Ingenious  Method. 

'*/^H,  BUT   didn't   Oi    hov  th'  divvle's   own  toime 

^-^     lasht  noight!"  mourned  Finnigin  as  he  dived 
into    the   Franklin  stove  after  a   pinker  coal   for    his 

pipe.  "Th'  divvle's 
own  toime  did  Oi  hov 
thry in  '  t '  git  wid 
Maloney,as  wint  t'  town 
wid  me  in  th'  mar-rnin'. 
Yez  see,  we  got  sepa- 
rated, th'  two  av  us,  an' 
git  togither  agin  we 
cuddent  t'  save  th' 
sowls  av  us.  Ivery- 
where  Oi  wint  an'  ast 
wuz  Maloney  there  Oi 
wuz  towld  he'd  jisht 
thot  minyit  gone.  At 
lasht  wan  mon  towld  me 
he  had  seen  wid's  own 
oyes  Maloney  shtartin' 
aff  home.  Wid  thot 
Oi  shtarted  toward 
home  mesilf,  thinkin' 
av  the  long,  forlorn- 
some  walk  befoor  me, 
an'  wishin'  fer  th'  coom- 
p'ny  av  me  frind.  At 
th'  fur-rst  moile  Oi 
met  Clancy  an'  ast  'm 
had  he  met  Maloney, 
an'  he  hadn't.  Thot 
puzzled  me  shtill  more, 
an'  Oi  wuz  thot  con- 
fused an'  bewildhered 
thot  Oi  didn't  know 
what  t'  do. 

"  At  lasht  Oi  hit  on 
th'  injaynyus  plan.  Oi 
wud  run  a  quarther  av 
a  moile  t'  overta-ake 
'm  in  case  he  wuz  ahid. 
Thin  Oi  wud  shtop  an' 
rist  tin  minyits  t'  let  'm 
catch  up  wid  me  if  he 
wuz  behoind.  But  in 
shpite  av  all  me  precautions, "  sighed  Finnigin  as  his 
coal  got  to  going  good,  "  Maloney  bate  me  home  about 

a  quarther  av  an  hour.  "  Strickland  w.  gilulan. 

No  Chance  for  Him. 

'VTLT'HEN  poverty  comes  with  one  fell  swoop, 

*  One  place  there's  still  where  young  love  "stands pat. " 

No  chance  there's  for  him  to  "fly  the  coop" 
In  the  kitchenette  of  a  Harlem  fiat. 

* '  T^  ID  you  have  a  good  time  at  the  zoo  ?" 
-*--'     "Beastly." 


A   Philippine  Melodrama 

By  Captain  Thomas  H.  Wilson,  U.  S.  A. 
Being  a  True  Account  of  the  Loves  of  Sweet  Dolores,  Adolphus  and  the  Captain 


A  MODEST  maid  of  ancient,  high  degree 
Was  Sweet  Dolores,  of  those  far-off  isles. 
The  Philippines  ;  her  father  a  rich  Don, 

Who  dressed  his  daughter  in  the  latest  styles 
Of  importations  from  Japan  and  France  ; 
She'd  studied  English,  French,  knew  how 
to  dance. 


'Twas  Young  Adolphus,  of  the  "  Second  Foot," 
Was  not  much  versed  in  woman  or  her  ways. 
But  Sweet  Dolores  to  his  soul  appealed. 

So  free  from  guile  and  care  and — sometimes 
—  "  stays"; 
For  in  the  tropics  there's  much  latitude 
Regarding  woman's  dress  and  attitude. 


'Twas  a!  i  ball  in  honor  of  some  saint, 

And  Pweet  Dolores,  in  most  gracious  mood, 
Prattled  and  talked  unto  her  heart's  delight 
Witf.  khakied  soldiers  (whom  she  found  not 
rude), 
ta  spite  of  friends'  and  father's  admonition, 
Tf  whom  "  Amevicanos  "  meant  perdition. 


But  to  our  story :    Both  hearts  loved  at  sight. 
And  though  her  father  raved  and  stormed, 
and  swore 
That  to  a  convent  she  shoiJd  quickly  hie 
And  see  her  bold  Adolphus'  face  no  more. 
She  only  laughed,  as  maids  in  stories  do, 
And  swore  "that  to  her  soldier  she'd  be 
true." 


Thus  time  rolled  by,  until  one  night  at  mess 

Adolphus,  heated  with  much  wine  and  iove, 
Boasted  (the  lad  was  somewhat  of  a  cad) 
Of  "his  sweet  girl — an  angel  from  above," 
Pledged  Sweet  Dolores  ;  swore  he'd  be  her 

spouse, 
And,  ah,  me  I   asked  his  captain   to  the 
house. 


Red  lights  ;  slow  music  ;  enter  here  the  villain, 

No  longer  slim  nor  in  the  flush  of  youth. 
Who'd  had  of  life  all  that  to  him  was  coming — 
Lived  forty  years  and  knew  a  thing,  forsooth, 
And,    like  "lago,"  when   he  saw   them 

cooing, 
Straightway  devised  a  plan  for  their  un- 
doing. 


So  when  Adolphus,  in  a  day  or  two, 

Received  an  order  sending  him  to  scout 
The  country  'twixt  his  station  and  the  west. 
He  left  his  "  angel"  without  fear  or  doubt ; 
E'en  asked  the   captain,  as  his  dearest 

crony. 
To  see  that  Sweet  Dolores  wasn't  lonely. 

8. 
But  here  1  falter — e'en  my  muse  rebels — 

To  tell  how  this  bold  captain  carried  on  ; 
In  his  skilled  hands  Dolores  was  as  wax — 
A  bold  marauder  and  a  startled  fawn  ; 
She   trembled,   blushed    and    wept,    and 

cried,  No  !  no! 
Yet  held  the  captain  while  she  bade  him 
go. 


And  so  this  villain  married  Sweet  Dolores, 
For  to  his  suit  her  father  he  did  win  ; 

He  taught  him  poker,  won  his  love  and  shek- 
els, 
Showed  him  the  virtue  of  "cracked  ice  and 

gin"; 
In  fact,  he  acted  with  such  tact  and  skill 
That  all  agreed  "Adolphus  was  .a  pilL" 


Drop  here  the  curtain ;  what  of  poor  Adol- 
phus, 
Betrayed    by   sweetheart    and    his   dearest 
friend? 
Alas  !  dear  reader,  I  dislike  to  tell  you 

Of  tills  poor  chap's  most  melancholy  end — 
He  left  the  army,  took  to  cocks  and  vino, 
And  married  a  full-blooded  Filipino. 


The  Happy  Drum-major. 


HEN  I  the  street  along, 
As  stiff  as  starch, 
Unto  the  wild  ding-dong 
Most  proudly  march, 

I  know  the  reason  why 

The  ladies  smile 
And  heave  a  wistful  sigh 

At  all  my  style. 

I  am  a  very  great 

And  pompous  thing, 

The  while  witli  vim  elate 
I  swasli  and  swing — 

The  haughty  drum-ma-jor, 

Who  is  the  bird 
That  swells  and  leaps  before 

The  Twenty-third. 


A  Bright  Night. 

IVTOW,  whenn  e  ye  severalle  knyghtes  of  ye  rounde-table 
were  gathered  together,  as  was  theyre  customme,  to 
cracke  nierrie  jokes  and  sing  jollie  songes,  there  was  one 
of  them,  whose  name  was  Sir  Burbonne,  and  he  didde 
talke  with  an  amazinge  wittienesse. 

Nor  colde  anie  one  saye  aniethynge  but  whatte  he 
wolde  come  ryghte  back  atte  hymme  wyth  a  replye  ye 
whych  was  even  funnyer  than  whatte  had  been  sayde. 

Soe  thatte  all  ye  table  didde  laugh  heartilie. 

Excepte  thatte  there  were  one  or  two  who  didde  seeme 
to  have  a  grouche.  And  whenne  some  one  sayde  unto  these 
one  or  two, 

"  Is  notte  Sir  Burbonne  brylliante — is  he  notte  a  bryghte 
knyghte  ?" 

They  made  replye,  surlilie, 

"  Of  a  truth,  he  sholde  be  a  bryghte  knyghte,  seeing 
thatte  he  is  fulle  of  moonshyne." 

Feminine  Timidity. 

/^LD  Betsey  Nabors  was  one  of  the  rudely  picturesque 
characters  of  a  large  rural  district  in  the  mountains 
of  Virginia.  She  was  a  great,  muscular  woman,  her  mas- 
culine appearance  being  emphasized  by  heavy  boots  and 
an  immense  bundle,  since  the  gentle  nomad  carried  her 
home  on  her  back. 

"  I  should   think,  Betsey,"  said  one  of  the   farm- 
"  that  you'd    be  scared    to    death  out  in  the 
woods  all  night." 

"  No,  I  ain't  skeered  o'  nuthin' — exceptin 
sometimes,"  she  added  with  a  shamefaced  air, 
"  I  do  be  a  bit  shy  of  a  b'ar." 

A  Musical  Effort. 

(I  IWHAT,"  we  ask  of  the  member  of  the 
orchestra  ;  "  what  instrument  do  you 
find  the  most  difficult  to  play  ?" 

"  The  slap-stick." 

"  But  we  did  not  know  that  was  an  or- 
chestral instrument." 

"  It  is  used  in  one  selection  only.  There 
is  a  very  difficult  slap-stick  obligato  in  Mike- 
towski's  '  Mosquito  Sonata  in  New  Jersey.' " 


The  Kindly  Cannibal. 

4  4  |IJ|Y  DEAR,"  said  the  kindly  cannibal  to  his  wife,  "  I 
wish  you  would  realize  that  my  business  affairs 
are  not  within  your  scope.  I  don't  like  this  habit  of  yours 
of  always  putting  your  finger  in  my  pie." 

"  I  want  you  to  understand,"  retorted  the  wife,  "  that 
I  am  going  to  exercise  every  right  I  have.  As  your 
wife  " 

"  And  I  want  you  to  understand,"  interrupted  the  can- 
nibal husband  with  some  heat,  "  that  if  you  keep  on  put- 
ting your  finger  in  the  pie  the  first  thing  you  know  all  the 
rest  01  you  will  go  into  a  pot-pie." 

Silenced,  the  woman  returned  to  her  household  duties. 

Dead  Easy  for  Him. 

((  A^^  y^"^  found  not  the  slightest  discomfort   in  your 
perilous  voyage  ?"  we  asked  the  man  who  had  re- 
cently gone  through  the  whirlpool  rapids  in  a  barrel. 

"  Me  ?"  he  chuckled.  "  Not  on  your  period  of  years  ! 
Evidently  you  are  not  aware  that  I  am  a  regular  patron 
of  the  Manhattan  '  L '  roads." 

The  Same  Feeling. 

Her  grandmother  (reminiscently) — "Yes,  Dorothy;  I 
remember  how  happy  I  was  when  some  one  told  me  your 
grandfather's  name  was  one  of  the  best  in  Burke's 
peerage." 

Dorothy— "Oh.,1 
suppose  you  felt  just 
as  I  did  when  I  found 
Charlie's  name 
was    in    Brad- 
street's." 


LOOKING   FORWARD. 

Miss  Johnson — "But  marriage  is  not  all  bread  an'  beer  an'  kisses, 
yo'  know." 

Mr.  Jackson — "Suttinly  not.     I  expec's  ter  git  de  poker  occasionally." 


To  the  Codfish  Ball. 

AMBROSIAL  sphere  that  in  my  vision  steams, 


A 


And  gilds  the  matutinal  board  with  joy, 


THERE  ARE   OTHERS. 
(At  the  zoo) — "  My  !  of  all  the  ugly  creatures  I" 

The  Fable  of  the  Hilarious  Home-coming. 

/ANCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  man  who  had  been  the 
husband  of  a  commanding,  hawk-billed  woman  for  so 
many  years  that  he  had  acquired  the  habit  of  dodging 
every  time  he  was  abruptly  spoken  to,  like  a 
horse  that  has  been  beaten  over  the  head.  One 
day  his  wife  handed  him  a  small  tin  pail  and 
an  order  to  fetch  an  errand  home  in  it.  On 
the  way  he  got  to  thinking  it  over,  and,  arriv- 
ing at  a  sudden  resolution,  he  hid  the  pail  in 
a  handy  fence-corner  and  shaped  his  course  to 
a  distant  clime. 

After  ten  years  of  vicissitudes  he  went  back, 
wearing  a  new  plug-hat  full  of  happy  antici- 
pations, largely  based  on  what  he  could  recol- 
lect of  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son.  He 
found  his  wife  wedded  to  another  man,  and 
the  latter,  upon  the  arrival  of  his  predecessor, 
quietly  picked  up  a  sneak  and  went  out.  After 
the  wanderer  had  unbosomed  himself  of  his 
little  say,  his  former  helpmeet  coldly  invited 
him  to  start  on  another  journey  and  not  be  in 
such  a  hurry  to  get  back.  As  he  was  begin- 
ning to  climb  out  again  for  the  distant  clime 
from  whence  he  liad  come  his  successor,  the 
second  husband,  emerged  from  tlie  fence- 
corner  where  the  first  man  had  hidden  the  tin 
pail  ten  years  before  and  asked  to  be  permitted 
to  go  with  him. 

Moral — From  this  we  should  learn  that, 
owing  to  the  rapacity  of  the  beef  trust,  and 
for  other  equally  cogent  reasons^  the  fatted 
calf  is  by  no  means  as  plentiful  as  he  used  to 
be. 


1  beam  on  you  e'en  as  the  little  boy 
Upon  his  newest  painted  plaything  beams. 
You  fill  my  soul  with  lotos-haunted  dreams, 

Transmuting  all  to  gold  without  alloy, 

N\Tien  with  your  toothsome  tenderness  I  toy 
And  all  the  eagle  of  my  homage  screams. 
Oh,  when  I  close  my  ivories  on  you, 

I  close  my  eyes  upon  the  ways  of  earth, 

And  caracole,   a  very  vine-wreathed  god. 
Unto  the  mighty  music  of  the  blue 

Billows  that  toss  and  tumble  in  their  mirth, 
Upon  the  happy  shores  of  old  Cape  Cod. 

R.   K.   MUNKITTRICK. 

A  Comparison. 

«/^OLONEL  HUNKTHUNDER,  the  poli. 

^^  tician,  has  a  queer  way  of  bobbin'  up 
again  every  time  after  he's  been  defeated," 
musingly  said  honest  Farmer  Bentover. 

"That's  a  fact,"  returned  'Squire  Stackpole, 
who  was  equally  as  farmerish  and  presumably 
as  honest.  "  He's  a  good  deal  like  a  wet  sheet 
in  a  wash-tub — when  you  push  him  down  in 
one  place  he  bulges  right  up  in  another." 


The  Unattainable. 

Cora "  What  do  you  consider  the  things  that  make 

life  worth  living  ?' 

Merritt "  The  ones  we  don't  possess." 


A  DISOBLIGING  PERSON. 


TOM  P.  MORGAK. 


Uncle  Hi  {^ho  is  some^vlmt  near-sighteJ.  to  clothing  dummy)  —  "Well, 
you  needn't  be  so  stuck  up,  jest  because  you  own  a  clothing-store.  I've  ast 
you  eight  times  to  tell  me  where  Broadway  is,  an'  if  you  were  a  gentleman 
you  'd  tell  me." 


The  Romance  of  John  Dough  Knutt 


By  Jack  Robinson 

One  of  the  Six  Best  Sellers  for  the  Coming  Month 


THE  EDITOR  has  intimated  that  it  is  about  time 
we    stopped   writing    little   dollar-forty-eight, 
mark-down  jokelets,   and  tried  our  skill  on    a 
full-fledged,  full-blown  novel.     This,  therefore, 
is  the  novel. 

It  is  our  first  novel,  though  we  ajmit  having  written 
rotten  love  stories  before — a  few.  We  also  admit  we 
never  could  sell  them.  Writing  a  love  story  is  woman's 
work.  If  a  man  does  it  at  all,  he  should  be  a  married 
man ;  then  he  can  dandle  the  baby  on  one  knee  and  write 
a  goo-goo  story  with  the  other — the  other  hand,  we 
mean,  of  course.    A  fellow  couldn't  tell  a  love  story  with 


LIMITED  VIRTUE. 

Judge — "  Officer,  what  is  Mr.  Oyster's  reputation  ?" 
Officer — "  Very  poor,  your  honor.     He  is  never  good 
more  than  eight  months  of  the  year." 

his  knee,  though  if  he  used  both  knees  he  might  be  able 
to  dictate  one.  No  diagram  with  this.  But  a  married 
man  has  a  bachelor  "  skun  a  mile"  when  it  comes  to 
writing  a  love  tale.  He  can  take  the  kid  on  his  knee, 
bid  memory  unroll  its  scroll,  and  pen  a  "  Coo,  coo!  How 
I  love  you  "  yarn  right  from  personal  recollection  of  his 
turtle-dove  days.  A  bachelor  can't  expect  his  imagina- 
tion to  run  riot  half  so  true  to  life.  He's  better  on 
statistics. 

However,  this  is  our  first  novel.  Some  folks  get  the 
swelled  head  over  their  first  novel ;  not  us.  After  the 
editor  pays  for  it,  it  doesn't  really  concern  us  much  just 
what  he  does  with  it.  It's  bound  to  be  a  good  novel  ere 
we  get  through  it,  and  that's  about  all  we  care.  If  it 
wasn't  a  good  one  we  might  bite  it  in  the   neck  and 


destroy  it;  we  would  never  try  to  sell  it.  "Fettle  his 
lug-oil  out  w id  a  brick, "  as  an  English  navvy  once  re- 
marked to  a  chum,  of  a  passing  bicyclist;  which,  being 
translated  into  pure  United  States,  means,  "  Hit  him  in 
the  ear  with  a  brickbat  or  rock."  Literally,  lug-oil — 
ear  hole.  Such  is  our  mother  tongue  on  its  native  soil. 
As  the  cockney  newsboys  yell,  "Doily  poipers!  Doily 
poipers!"  Is  it  any  wonder  the  Dublinites  have  the 
reputation  of  speaking  the  best  English? 

But  the  novel !     Here  goes  for  the  curtain-raiser. 

Gwendoline  McFinn  and  John  Dough  Knutt  paused  on 
the  brink  of  the  bluff  and  faced  each  other.  Each  read 
life's  message  in  each  other's  eyes,  or  thought  they  did. 

Gwen  represented  the  hot,  fiery,  rebellious  tempera- 
ment of  the  frozen  north,  for  she  hailed  from  Boston. 
He  was  the  cool,  calculating,  even-tempered  man  of  the 
tropic  south. 

Some  folks  may  wonder  at  these  personal  descriptions ; 
but  it's  our  novel,  and  we  reserve  the  right  to  write  it 
as  we  please.  If  it  was  just  like  other  novels,  of  course 
the  editor  wouldn't  buy  it. 

John  Dough  Knutt  was  discouraged,  because  he  was 
out  of  work,  for  he  could  get  nothing  to  do  at  his  trade 
amid  those  rock  piles  of  Colorado.  He  was  an  oyster- 
dredger  by  profession,  and  there  were  no  oysters  in  those 
lonely  canyons.  As  he  wended  his  way  north  with  the 
beautiful  Nova  Scotian  on  his  arm,  not  even  a  solitary 
lobster  could  be  seen  clinging  to  the  cliffs.  We  have 
said  that  Gwennie  hailed  from  Boston ;  so  she  did,  but 


AND  CUPID  SHRIEKED. 
Mils  Puritania — "  Money  is  the  enemy  o(  all  good  breeding." 
Miss  Flippant — "Perhaps;   but  the  average  woman  loves  a 
man  for  the  enemies  he  has  made." 


V' 


she  originally 
came  from  the 
herring  coun- 
try, Prince  Ed- 
ward or  Nova 
Scotia. 

John  was 
from  Dubuque, 
Maryland.  At 
firstwe  thought 
of  locating  him 
at  Oyster  Bay, 
but  ten  chances 
to  one  the  Pres- 
ident takes  this 
magazine  reg- 
ularly, and  if 
he  saw  such  a 
statement  he 
mightdenounce 
us  for  a  nature- 
fakir,  on  the 
grounds  that 
there  are  no 
oysters  in  Oys- 
ter Bay,  just  as 
there  are  no 
New  Yorkers 
in  New  York; 
just  as  there 
are  no  Germans 
in  german  sil- 
ver, and  no  sil- 
ver, for  that 
matter.  We 
should  hate  to 
have  the  Presi- 
dent get  down 
on  us.  He 
might  tele- 
graph   us   to 

come  right  on  to  Washington   and  explain,   and,  if  we 
couldn't,  set  us  at  a  steady  job  and  make  us  work. 

This  novel  took  place  in  the  west. 

As  the  lovers  paused  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice, 
Apache  Ike  could  be  seen  in  the  distance,  slowly  burrow- 
ing his  way  on  a  burro.  He  swung  his  lariat  about  as 
he  blithely  sang  "  Erin  Go  Bragh."  A  strange  tune  to 
echo  through  those  lonely  mountain  gorges. 

Help,  then,  was  nigh  at  hand. 

But,  hold !  Injuns !  Concealed  in  the  long  grass  lay 
a  Tuscarora  buck,  concealing  his  concealment,  a  keen 
tommy  razor  in  his  hand,  and  a  long,  gleaming  army 
sword  between  his  teeth,  while  behind  his  ear  reposed  a 
common  case-knife — a  trick  he  had  learned,  no  doubt, 
while  taking  a  course  in  bookkeeping  back  east.  He  was 
an  Iroquois  Indian. 

How,  then,  came  he  to  far-off  Colorado?     For  every 
one  knows  the  Iroquois  were  York  State  Indians. 
<  Did  he  come  on  th  Overland,  the  rumble  of  which 
could  be  heard  overland,  as  the  brave  girl  pointed  one 


>. 


>^ 


M 


^^mC^ 


THE  LOVE  MICROBE. 
"  Phat  makes  yez  look  90  happy  ?" 

"  Shure,  an'  Oi  read  in  th'  papers  this  mamin'  thot  lore  is  a  contagious  disaise,  an' 
not  feelin'  well." 


trembling  fin- 
ger at  the  dan- 
ger that  lurked 
in  the  brush? 
Though  that 
one  finger  trem- 
bled, the  rest 
of  her  hands 
were  steady 
enough,  show- 
ing a  fine  com- 
m  a  n  d  of  the 
nerves. 

Did  he  come 
in  his  seven- 
league  boots? 
Did  he  come  on 
stilts?  Did  he 
come  on  a  bicy- 
cle? Did  he 
come  on  a  bet? 
How  he  came 
is  a  mystery, 
and  in  a  first- 
class  novel  the 
mystery  is  only 
cleared  up  at 
the  end. 

"Will  you 
marry  me 
now  ?"  she 
hissed.  "  Re- 
member, this 
is  leap  year." 

Slowly,  like 
one  recovering 
his  reason, 
John  Dough 
Knutt  remem- 
bered. Slowly, 
too,  he  backed 
away  from  his  beautiful  companion  toward  the  edge  of 
the  cliff,  and  felt  for  a  good,  firm  footing  for  both  feet. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  bitterly.     "This   is   leap  year." 
Then  he  leaped. 

Before  the  frightened  girl  had  the  first  idea  of  his 
horrible  intent,  he  leaped  the  yawning  chasm  to  the 
jagged,  jutting,  slippery  rocks  at  the  other  side,  and 
they  crumbled  and  gave  way.  The  chagrined  girl,  see- 
ing her  lover  escaping,  picked  up  a  three-cornered  rock 
and  hurled  it  after  him.  As  it  left  her  hand,  true  to  a 
woman's  instinct,  she  changed  her  mind  and  decided  to 
throw  it  at  the  Indian,  concealed  in  the  tall  grass.  True 
to  a  woman's  aim,  the  missile  flew  to  its  double  target. 
Across  the  chasm  the  feet  of  John  Dough  Knutt  were 
slipping  on  the  treacherous  footing;  another  moment, 
and  he  would  have  fallen  into  the  awful  abyss,  and  the 
coyotes  down  the  gulch  would  have  howled  for  very  joy. 
It  hit  him  in  the  small  of  the  back,  because  it  had 
been  aimed  at  the  Indian.  The  blow  gave  him  a  new  im- 
pulse forward,  he  recovered  his  balance,  and  fell,  i,face 


-or 


•  WELL-WATERED   INVESTMENT. 
'  Have  you  been  out  to  see  the  building  lots  you  bought  ? 
'  Yes.     1  fished  on  them  all  one  day  last  week." 


downward,  safe  on  the  other  shore.  Boomerang-like, 
the  triangular  missile  next  turned  on  its  course,  and, 
sailing  through  the  ozone,  the  "  stun  "  struck  the  noble 
red  man  and  stunned  him.  He  lay  there,  silent  as  the 
stars. 

Gwendoline  McFinn  married  Apache  Ike, 
who  now  rode  up.  They  went  to  live  on  his 
ranch  and  were  happy  ever  afterward,  and 
had  most  as  many  children  as  a  tarantula. 

But  the  Indian,  if  he  lived,  gave  no  sign 
during  the  period  of  our  story. 

How  did  this  son  of  the  Six  Tribes  get  to 
far-off  Colorado? 

He  went  in  his  automobile. 

Where  They  Should 

Go  for  the  Summer. 

O  ALOON-KEEPERS— Bar  Harbor. 
"■^     Card-players — Deal  Beach. 

Flour  merchants — Rye. 

Depositors — Red  Bank. 

Wrestlers — Freehold. 

Pigeon-fanciers — Dover. 

Pugilists — Bangor. 

Quarrymen — Rockaway. 

Finding  Her  Level. 

Mrs.  Scrapsby— "You  talk  like  a  fool!" 
Scrapsbij  —  "  W e\\ ,     if  I  didn't,    you 
wouldn't  understand  me." 


How  a  Poet  Lost  His  Job. 

A  POET  of  the  magazines, 
As  poets  go  to-day, 
Contrived  by  honest  industry 
To  make  the  business  pay. 

Until  one  day,  by  somemishap. 
An  editor  had  bought 

A  poem  which,  he  found  too 
late, 
Contained  a  tiny  thought. 

A  very  little  one,  'tis  true; 

But  when  a  poet  sends 
A  real  thought  to  a  magazine 

He  ne'er  can  make  amends. 

The  ending  of  a  bright  career 
(His  friends  were  grieved 
to  note) 

Began  upon  the  day  a  thought 
Got  into  what  he  wrote. 

Beware  such  indiscretion,  see 
A  bright  careero'erthrown, 

And  keep  your  verse  to  words 
and  rhyme — 
To  words  and  rhyme  alone ! 

J.   D.   M. 

The  Wretch ! 

ii  •T'HAT  man  Kiddem  is  a 
scoundrel — an  unprin- 
cipled scoundrel!"  declared 
the  man  with  the  harried  look 
in  his  eyes. 

"Can   it   be?"    asked   the 
man  with  the  near-gold  chain. 
"Yes.      The    cur!      He 
asked  my  wife  to  elope  with  him." 

"  And  then  " 

"  And  then,  when  she  had  agreed,  he  told  her  he  was 
only  fooling." 

/-^ 

1   fif1i>. 


OUT  OF  STYLE. 

A  leopard  once  shed  a  great  tear. 

And  sighed,  "Ah  I   my  life  is  quite  drear, 

For  I'm  covered  with  lots 

Of  these  big  ugly  spots — 

And  stripes  are  the  fashion  this  year." 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
Santa  Barbara 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


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.u  ,,«,. 


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